My Sofa

I have a cursed sofa

It keeps coming back

At first we relegated it to the basement

a fitting place to molder until the fashion came back around again

but it found its way back upstairs

I don’t even know how

one day it was sitting back in the living room

acting casual

as if it had never gone

It may have fooled my wife

but it didn’t fool me

We were generous

we gave it to the friends of my son

some place to sit in their very first apartment

God only knows what happened on that couch

But it was gone

there was no way that it was ever coming back

once it had crossed that threshold

its destiny was determined

But no

Oh no

It came back

One day it was gone

the next day it was out in my garage

taking the place where my car couldn’t fit

just sitting there like it was used to spilt beer

and God only knows what

And I was tempted to sit on it

after all

having a couch in your garage can be very convenient

Ah, comon!

You’ve drank beer in your garage before

If not

give it a try

It’s terribly middle class

but then, that couch was terribly middle class

just sitting there

waiting to suck me in

The broken springs

the threadbare upholstery

the fallen frame

the insane desire to survive

I gave it to my son

And he gladly took it

All the way to Columbia

I’m to understand it became one of several

His apartment seemed to attract sofas

and they couldn’t turn them away

It’s probably like that thing I had with stuffed animals when I was a kid

still do

once you look in their eyes

they’re real

You can’t throw them away

You can put them away

but then you feel you have to find them every once in a while

just to apologize

how sorry you are

to leave them in a box

stuffed in the top shelf

of the closet in your bedroom

Those are things

that your children don’t want

And now my son’s come back home for the summer

Our van

the van he borrowed

is stuffed full of God only knows what

And I’m betting

or at least willing to bet

or might bet

especially if it’s not too much money

that somewhere in that van

underneath the plastic bags full of dinner wear

and biology notes

is an old, worn sofa