Faciendum
Kevin Brown
n. — something that should be done
Another date arranged by marriage-minded
mothers or brothers
or co-workers who hope to gather
grandchildren and playdates,
another conversation over
coffee, this one cut
short, as we become encircled
by a cadre of couples—
with kids, of course—who confuse
creation and procreation, believing
their children are furniture,
can fill the empty rooms
of their lives. We become mute,
mimes trapped behind a box
of expectations, amazing
my relatives when I report
our silence, as they believe
speech is autonomic,
like breathing, blinking,
falling in love.
They see my singleness
as a curse that needs
to be exorcised
by some ancient mating
ritual, so they sacrifice
my solitude to their gregarious
god of fertility, sending
me out to find
yet another virgin.