Mary and I argued
and then fucked.
Or did we fuck first and argue later?
Wine blurs time yet I know
we spat back and forth
about whether to have a baby
or take a vacation
since both throw
kitchens of carbon
into Earth’s buckling atmosphere.
Well once Mary picked a trip
to make our matrimony complete,
we left our heated
apartment empty
to fly overnight through warming air.
On seats later dropped into beds, we got served
two hamburgers, which required
twenty-six-thousand gallons of water
and hectares of deforested farmland
to graze and slaughter cows.
After check-in, we screamed out the recipe
for a vacation baby
over that stained mattress spread.
The oven of Mary’s body
now bakes a zygote
like the grocery bags
we will fill with meat
to feed our future kin.