Foley Catheter

I clean its latex length three times a day

                      With kindliest touch,

           Swipe an alcohol swatch

From the tender skin at the tip of him

                      Down the lumen

            To the drainage bag I change

Each day and flush with vinegar.

                       When I vowed for worse

            Unwitting did I wed this

Something-other-than-a-husband, jumble

                       Of exposed plumbing

            And euphemism. Fumble

I through my nurse’s functions, upended

                        From the spare bed

            By his every midnight sound.

Unsought inside our grand romantic

                       Intimacy

           Another intimacy

Opens—ruthless and indecent, consuming

                        All our hiddenmosts.

            In a body, immodest

Such hunger we sometimes call tumor;

                       In a marriage

           It’s cherish.  From the Latin for cost.

Copyright © 2020 by Kimberly Johnson. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on January 15, 2020, by the Academy of American Poets.