Jonah's Wife Explains



The beached whale of him,

his rotten carcass,

ribs like the pillars of Hercules,

inside, a dark city, fetid, crawling

with sweaty maggots.


You were swallowed up,

vanished from my life,

I took another to my bed:

our children needed a father,

our table needed food,

no fish; grapes, olives, pomegranates;

we raised a family.


In the end it took a village

to bring you back,

you and all your new friends,

their blank reflective eyes,

scaling our fences,

frightening the livestock,

can you blame us?


You were good eating:

salted, you lasted the whole winter,

I saved your teeth in a jar,

in case I need fishermen,

instead of farmers.