The Sports Section of the Sunday Times

The Sunday Times waited for us on our Harlem stoop,
Protected by a blue plastic bag.
We'd take turns bringing up the paper,
And unfolding sections on the dining room table
Where, at 24, we did almost no dining.

The Travel and Arts sections were separated
From the Business and Science sections.
I'd devour the Modern Love column,
And E would study the theater reviews.

The Sports section was almost discarded entirely,
Except we used the blank space to leave each other notes
Like roommates do.
A thick, black permanent marker wrote:
"We're out off of coffee, I'll pick some up."

We were New Yorkers then,
Doing what New Yorkers do:
Taking only what delighted us,
And repurposing the rest.

...

No longer a New Yorker,
That blue plastic bag now appears on my Denver porch,
And B and I take turns bringing it in,
And spreading the contents out on our dining room table,
Uncovering the Modern Love column first and always.

While B scrambles eggs, we work on the crossword together
I call out clues while bacon grease sizzles.
27 Across, "an eyedropper, essentially"
He replies "a pipette"

I count the letters first,
Then check my spelling
Writing in the blank spaces,
On the Sports section,
Of the Sunday Times.