THE LOST HOMES OF KALAMAZOO
I announce myself to a friendless room & alone: I study abstractions!
I learn from you, coldness, wind, & thought.
I displace my face & fling it across the room toward you.
I haven't smiled since I was ordered to do so.
I weigh the morning on my palm.
It consumes my thought.
The night's dews are weightless
on my shoulders.
It takes fifteen minutes
to move from one side
of my mind to the other.
Even as a child I understood
the difference between day & night.
This room is a lair.
I am worse off when I leave than when I have entered.
Every time you have blinked
a star has lacerated some rock
you shelve in reverence
& remembrance of your dead.
I edit my unspoken thoughts.
From the trees the last bird sounds of the night.
The lights in the homes where I cannot know.
TYPO
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