Palinode 16 (book two)

There is too much sound;

Much sounds like

Commonplace phrasing, and the whining

I do when I don’t get my way.

I left it, angry, not really “at” anymore.

People talk too directly.

How things have escalated,

Arisen of little brandishes—

I have moved my hand dramatically to show you I am raising the bar.

Last night I dreamt of my grandmother

But you were there too

It was—I only remember—the feeling of being under—
                     the feeling of doing for,
                     following instructions,
                     following our routine—

It is safe when you fill both sinks with water, one for washing, one for rinsing.

In comparison to our sink, I think this one makes more sense—
ours stainless and undivided, a common place for a pile-up.

I left it for a pileup. Not angry at, just me in my winter clothes:

I have
two shirts,
two socks,
two hats, for my
two torsos,
two feet—
you get the idea.

There was no secret language, nothing I didn’t understand.

You didn’t brandish the dishes, you stood there and washed them.

I was not looking for symbols, not misunderstanding.

I tossed the mail up the stairs,

Went to the café and signed a petition I didn’t read.

I know, it doesn’t make sense, but it made me feel better—
Not looking at it—
      language, etc
Not trying to read it
      and still
signing on to support some fellow and
his ideas about cleaning up the waterfront or something about
cleaning up the city.