a meditation on being married
eating dinner and having the streets to ourselves
irritated as ants if we had any sympathy
hello youre here in the bed in the blue sheet
the heat moistens your skin generically
so free & unmotivated
see that man through over walking light as a
stalk hes got someone somewhere else
over a border or before a desk
tentatively
living with a slower middle of the day
think of all the victims & survivors and their distinction
& we too will gain it rather later than sooner
the meeting happened & the rest fell into place
there were so many signs that a reading
could be said to be forced on us or one of
thats lazy criticism
& if we wanted where would
we go to reap this forest eden or batemans
bay
where are all the poems of love they
were
already written in the waiting room