The Japanese say the size of a man's ear
will determine his wealth:
a large ear like the Buddha's
indicates great fortune will descend.
My husband's ears are small.
I cup one in my palm and feel
the warmth of a little stone,
not even enough to heat a kettle!
Unlucky husband with ears as delicate
as daisies. Sometimes I try to stretch them;
I imagine them growing into prizewinning
produce: the leafy wings of cabbage;
or big salty slabs of Canadian bacon;
rafts upon the water
like the lily pads of Venus.
With my molars on his lobe I bite down
into this rubbery mammal,
its canal like a conch shell,
its fibrous foreskin, smelt thin,
this love in my mouth like a bone,
I could almost bite right through—
but I don't, I save him,
and then we revel in our luck!