Ted Jean

His dirt was red.
Hers black.
His, hills.
Hers, tilled.
He loved.
Beyond her ken.
White trash.
Immigrant Chinese.

His fealty was giddily replete.
Her caution unrelenting.
He worked for thirty years
to persuade her that the world is bliss.
That became a pain in the ass.

Finally, she reached for his hand.







"Mixed Marriage" is a transmogrified sonnet. Its form reflects its subject: counterpoint. The marriage of opposites can produce plangent discord or sweet harmony; it's all about listening, practice, touch.