I keep watching “It Takes Two,”
marvelling at Kirstie Alley’s eyes,
her subtlety when flinging macaroni
and cheese at Steve Guttenberg.
It is not the most functional love story,
but there are orphan children involved,
mistaken identities, and the possibility
that a family can begin on different continents,
if wealth and poverty were continents,
I listen to Clarice’s alliterations,
smile at the sing-song meanness
of her blonde hair and skinny wrists.
I do not hate her.
I cannot hate her after
the three stepmother’s
and just trying to get hers.
You should watch the movie.
It might change you.
It might not have changed me at all.
I have watched it three times in the last month.
I don’t know what I’m looking for.
But they say Staten Island.
Say family and hopeful.
They say dissappointment,
and I somehow feel like home.