J·S
i.
A week ago, I did not know—absence
frustrated me. Now I know.
Everything moves forward on schedule.
No information is painful. Just
added pieces to a puzzle.
Life spins on both axes,
good and bad. The doctor says
this is merely inflection.
The train pulls forward
and we must sit in the back, not aware
the engine has driven off the bridge.
Until after the fact, when water
hits our face and we reach
the ever-after...
ii.
Like Jacob dizzy
from wrestling
the Angel,
I am intoxicated
by the struggle
to forget—
wanting to punch
the guy; wishing she met me
when I still smoked;
doubting if I will go
too bald this year,
waiting for an apology
I don’t expect;
a big picture
I never wanted.
iii.
I don’t want a Porsche;
I want the little car that is fun with my stuff in it.
I don’t want a wife;
I want these nights alone with books.
I don’t want children;
I want the freedom to be broke and dumb
All I want is stability,
to say tomorrow will be here.
Stability
to say I will be content tomorrow, with friends at hand.
When each week is a new climate,
there is no stable weather, so give me armor.
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