The best ideas come to me when
the telephone rings and rings. There’s no pleasure
in feeling like a fool — when your lover
has left you. A fresh loss for my head:
Possession. I forge my own
Damascene sword. I’ve done nothing with time.
A little child struts before the school board,
playing at Revolution. Meanwhile outside,
the world waits and swarms with great bands
of killers and the truly insane. Hanging
from windows as if to say: I’m brave —
Do you love me? Just for tonight.
Only For One Night.
A dog howls and whimpers
at the glass revolving door (why can’t I
be there?) A cat shrieks. The car engine
revs and races across — the dry,
torn carbon copy of protest. I set aside the book
and begin my own.
I love that plump girl.
When will SHE come to me?
