The Paperclip and the Ship

The first year we were married,
I woke Phil, urgently.
“Take this paperclip. It will save the ship.”
I vaguely remember his fingers,
Vainly trying to grasp what I offered.
“I can’t get it.”
“That’s because it’s imaginary!”

His sarcastic, “Oh, okay!” woke me fully,
And at first I was annoyed.
But then we laughed, and continued to laugh,
For years. Just how was that paperclip supposed to help?

He went back to sleep, and I got up
And finished A Passage to India
And started Death Comes for the Archbishop.
So a week’s worth of satisfying reading
Converged around sleep-talking.

I’ve forgotten much in fourteen years,
But this I remember.