Foley Catheter

by Kimberly Johnson

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.