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This poem is taken from PN Review 269, Volume 49 Number 3, January - February 2023.

Three Poems Nina Bogin

Already they were tiptoeing out of their rooms,
heading for the locked door at the end of the hallway.
They were entering their childhood homes.
Their wives became their brothers,
their husbands were their mothers.
They had to get up in the middle of the night
to chop firewood in the garage.
They had to get ready for school.
They hadn’t finished their homework.
They had to get home.
They pulled on their spouse’s sleeve saying let’s go, let’s go.
They got lost looking for the toilet. They couldn’t hold it in.
They refused to shower. They didn’t want to change their sweater.
Their shoes were too heavy, they couldn’t lift their feet.
There was no reason to get up from their chair.
They called their wife’s name over and over.

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