For All the Things That Cannot be Changed

[Quixilated]

For All the Things That Cannot be Changed

When I set the table tonight, I left you  This line break is fantastic. 
a bread knife to slice the turkey.  The narrator isn't making things easy for this person, but then the reader also notices the that the turkey-carver is implied to be somehow stuck with this less than optimal option.  The scene (like the table) is set with what isn't there--why can't the turkey-carver just get up and get a better knife? 
It appears as if   This line break is uncomfortable for me, but I don't know how to put into words why that is. 
I've misplaced the carving tools, then put out  I can't help feeling like they were misplaced intentionally ... there is a cold war between the lines.
the rough and rumpled linens whose fibers resist  Tablecloths are so bothersome. I can picture this table vividly because I love tablecloths but I hate ironing, so mine are always a bit wrinkled, even if I fold them right out of the dryer.  I refuse to iron them, so rumpled is just how it's got to be.  
the iron. Fragility of mind, no doubt.  Based on the tone of the poem, I feel like the narrator's 'excuse' might be quoting something often said to the narrator by the turkey-carver.  Or perhaps I'm reading too much into it.  
I forgot the butter for your place setting,  the phrasing implies that the butter was not forgotten for the other place settings ... also that the forgetting was intentional. And yet, why can't the turkey-carver just get their own butter?  Why is the forgetting of the butter such a big deal?  What kind of cold war is this? (Rhetorical questions, just making observations).
while an ample glass of Prosecco welcomes my hand; And here is a turning point for the reader.  Up until this moment, one could assume the narrator is the underdog in this scenario, that the turkey-carver is in a completely authoritarian control and that all the little 'forgettings' are the narrator's subtle/not-so-subtle attempts to push back.  But this line changes that story.  We still don't know why the turkey-carver isn't responsible for getting their own knife and butter, but the narrator is not meek and helpless, not with an 'ample glass' in hand after all of that. 
you're going to have to reach over me  I love this line.  The narrator will make the entire dinner, will set the table, but won't even pass the potatoes.  There is a line drawn between doing what must be one's 'duty' and doing anything even remotely helpful on a personal level.  
for those potatoes. A heavy gravy 
keeps the table runner pinned;  And, I imagine, a heavy silence keeps the participants pinned uncomfortably to this shared meal. 
smooth and dark, 
it covers all sins.  Implying the potatoes need covering for some reason we can only guess.  But also implying the narrator and/or the turkey-carver have some things that could use a good coat of gravy. 

I don't really have suggestions for change, it's a fantastic poem.  I explained how the poem reads to me and what impressions it gives.  If these things were your aim, then success.  If not, then perhaps edit the lines that were not meant to read that way.  (Though multiple readers might read the same line many different ways, so only do that if others also say the same things).  Either way, hopefully it's helpful on some level. 

I don't care for the shortness of the 'it appears as if' line. I think the semicolon after 'hand' could be a period. If the 'fragility of mind' line is in fact the narrator quoting back to the turkey-carver something they have said to the narrator, then perhaps put it in quotes to drive that home.  

Thank you for sharing this poem and welcome back! 

--Quix