You’ll be delighted to know that you
register anywhere in anyone’s mind,
a flicker, the wavering line.
Hardly alive in yourself, there’s a
little of you there.
You’ll be delighted to know that you
register anywhere in anyone’s mind,
a flicker, the wavering line.
Hardly alive in yourself, there’s a
little of you there.


Would that women were so
open with their readiness, crying
“Come get me” in the night —
“Come get me” — while the
neighbors grumble, “What
is that?” and shut their windows
against the excess of need.


Life dishes out its unbelievable burdens
except it’s totally believable
because it happens every day

From a drug or perhaps
lack of the same or,
I think now, your alarm
at our knock and all that that
might mean
