to bits & bits behind
closed doors. longing
for a change in me.
finding white space between
advertisments in the newspaper,
so i can write poetry quickly
without thought.
falling down in the rain
i should buy new shoes
i should re-sole my boots.
furious writing
in the third row
of the lecture hall,
touch arm-against-arm
in fabricated attraction.
a woman sits in the courtyard
of old teacher's college, rubbing
her ankle & drifting between thoughts.
she must be missing someone
with a look like that.
i break off engagements with friends,
avoid the train which would take me to you.
change venues for lunch, who needs to be seen?
for in english they tell us "to be seen
is to validate your existence" & i wonder
if this is really true.
crawl into bed smelling of roses,
my sheets need changing, they always do.
i read prize-winning novels, but never
get past page seventy-three.
why is this so?
can't find my music so i listen
to the same old tracks, to the radio.
but no station plays the songs i like;
not altogether, juxtaposed just so.
my white shirt
returns from the wash
stretched out & transparent,
two sizes too big
i still wear it;
but i blame the world
for all my mistakes,
while doing so.