Today’s sunlight is entitled “Crisis.”
It plays gentle havoc with the soft parts
of me, makes me question those smiles
of cloud in the far away sky. Davis Square
lunchtime & the bankers give firm
approval to the life I’m trying to live.
Nate, how many times did you think
you wouldn’t make it?
If the crowds
start to thin out, I’m going to push
from behind this table & lie down
on the sidewalk. I can’t stop beginning.
Each tree limb catches a dusting of what light.
People might scream their own names
a little louder. They’d care
even less than usual about who
they’re talking to. I don’t have to write
my usual lines
about seeing your skin
glow smooth in the morning under my hand.
It happened that way today, & yesterday,
& tomorrow. There’s comfort in this
pretend forever. At the bottom left
of the canvas is evidence of the crisis.
See everything smoldering with relief?
The occasional sunny warmth of autumn
as it falls apart into this November
breath of fog-cold air reminds me
time is an actual fact even though
I can’t measure it out. How much
of my today life couldn’t ever have been
predicted? Maybe I’m just going crazy with feeling
since I’m so nostalgic even about whatever
is already right here! It’s 1:21 & I’m hovering
with the indecision of coffee or wine.
Whole colonies of citizens of the United States
are working at desks but I honor our history too.
There’s something the light does to me
when it hits that misty pane of glass,
O my heart! In five hours, I’ll watch subway cars
not bring you home & then suddenly one of them will!
A chorus of footsteps! Hallelujah kerklunk
of the turnstile! Sometimes when a person goes
for a walk it’s nice if they have no idea
where they’re going which is like when you show up
as yourself in some future day thinking
it wasn’t at all like the brochure! I’ll sit here,
sunk deep into my shirt, & write a thousand poems
about your humble hair while the downstairs dogs whimper
to be let out & even the housekeeper can’t help.