On Marriage Equality

They don't do couples counseling.
They go to Home Depot, they go to Lowe's,
figure out what it would cost
to tear their kitchen out, replace
the granite counter tops, the stainless
steel, that was so last year.
They think the market is strong.
They take out home equity loans.
They take their "date nights" seriously,
scheduling in "quality time" and faithfully
meeting their mutually agreed upon
weekly coitus quota.
They do Pilates, they do Bikram yoga.
They enroll in "positive" Tantric sex workshops
and swing with other couples
who "sing the body electric."
They post romantic kisses on Facebook,
tweet about lubricants and lingerie,
put tally marks on a white-erase board
for the number of times they've come
each week, their little wink wink
(unless friends ask, don't tell).
She knows his passwords, reads his emails,
closely watches his history cache, careful
not to delete the cookies.
Is his cock really big enough?
Can he tell she's faking it, her intensity
just a little forced, this woman
who knows how to back into a parking space
with her eyes closed, who can talk her way
out of any moving violation?
He says he's not a misogynist, gives
plenty to Planned Parenthood,
says he'd keep on doing it
even if it weren't a tax write off.
He keeps his fingernails trimmed.
He keeps an underage boy
in a soundproof room walled-off with foam.
She wears Lanvin, Louboutin.
How much longer can this go on?