For All the Things That Cannot be Changed

[Fearful Symmetry]

I know this one’s been sitting for a minute but I’ve decided to comment anyway. Since no one is bursting through the door to stop me, it seems likely that I’ll succeed. 

My first thought after reading this was “Oooo that was really good.”

For All the Things That Cannot be Changed

This title doesn’t feel on the money to me. It seems more suited to an ode, or a piece written as an anti-ode. My first thought was The Last Supper or The Sacrament of the Last Supper…but they’re really a bit on the nose, aren’t they, and deflate that superb ending. Instead, my vote is for “Sidet’ na Chemodanakh”. It’s a Russian custom that literally means “sitting on suitcases”. In practice, it’s a short time of quiet contemplation taken before leaving on a trip/journey. 

When I set the table tonight, I left you 
a bread knife to slice the turkey. 
It appears as if

If this is a very intentional line break, like the first line, the intention is lost on me. To me “It appears as I’ve misplaced/“ would read more naturally. 

I've misplaced the carving tools, then put out
the rough and rumpled linens whose fibers resist 
the iron. Fragility of mind, no doubt.

I would suggest cutting the mention of the linens. Moving straight from “tools.” to “Fragility of mind, no doubt.” It reads like the resistance is meant to carry some symbolism but without the rest of the piece treating the other items similarly (until the end) it feels out of place. 

I forgot the butter for your place setting,
while an ample glass of Prosecco welcomes my hand;

I think these two lines would be more in tone with the rest of the poem if they were two separate sentences, each ending with a period, cutting “while” — avoiding that “run-on description” kind of feeling. 

you're going to have to reach over me
for those potatoes. A heavy gravy 
keeps the table runner pinned;
smooth and dark, 
it covers all sins.

This is a really wonderful poem. I loved the ending. Fantastic work.