with a promise of patience
than sticking the afflicted
with a fix they can’t use.
with a promise of patience
than sticking the afflicted
with a fix they can’t use.
When you hook elbows
and turn,
you’re going in the same direction together,
even if you don’t see
eye to eye.
A girl with bobbed hair once
who spent her summers
on the coast of Maine
and went back to Choate
with a tan and hard muscles.
She had that nose and chin
she’d never lose,
and she’d send you
chasing the ball
all over the court
until you tasted the salt
of your own sweat
and wished you were
a better player.
That some things would finally be done.
The dishes, for one.
For once didn’t
and I saw the
panic
in his eyes –
a slower drainage than
you would expect –
the possibilities
receding like
tubwater
well before
the gurgle.
For all the volume
it’s clear:
the stakes are low.