Not to research
you
but you
Unwork work
falling into
a chair
despite things
I seat you
“you are here you are talking”
sloppy
they are your
words I let
you speak
them with-
out interruption
I have trouble with reading the paper or
paying attention
to what you are talking--
have you deliberately?
What? It’s not funny, dear…
Did you see the red maple by the train?
Uh-huh.
It is so bright. When do they lose their leaves?
Hum?
When do they-- dear, when do they die for the season?
In this same poem, I am listening,
I want:
this night I
want a temper-
ature drop to
bring winter
white as it is
supposed to
to suppose
these things are
alone in me is
no longer all-
owed,
we are here
we are sloppy--talking.