What Her Father Said

After the barbeque the men stayed out

in the cold garden drinking sake, rum,

and whiskey, stomachs warm and fingers numb.

The yellow cat began to nose about

the chicken bones and cold asparagus,

leftover steak and daikon radish, salt

soy beans, cucumber salad. “It’s my fault,”

he said, “She doesn’t want me.” “Just give us

some time,” her father said—his gray hair tied back—

gripped his son-in-law’s hands across the table

and held them tight, tight. “Listen to me,”

he said, “In Japan, we say a dog is able

to eat all things, will even lick its ass.

But marriage trouble, even dogs won’t eat.”