CALAMITY

Last night I went on a moody walk

In my neighborhood

Which is mostly women sitting just out of frame

On low couches

In their apartments

 

I have an imaginary photo set called Women Who Are Having a Nice Time

 

I look and smell like Styrofoam, but I’m not

 

I used to photograph strangers not conceptually

But the power alarmed me

 

So I left the film in the vegetable bin

And acted surprised when something sogged on it

 

I found a new freckle in the shower

I think

My body is a glyph                a symbol

I can’t understand

 

Last night a car descended a long driveway

Making light on things

So I thought of you

 

The night presented me with parts of a sink on the sidewalk

And wet brown things and napkins dabbing at them in places

 

And everything was so possible

 

My attention on a stranger

Locking her car door

 

Maybe I was considering

In the feminine way

If she threatened me

 

Maybe thinking we could forgive each other for stuff

 

I think I’m turning into a butter pat

 

Things that happen at night

 

One is a dog behind an iron gate

The other is a drunk voicemail I left for you

Before I remembered you were dead

 

Surprise can be a tight wound huh

And the careful study

Of someone you love

Can be a sort of paranoia

Reading intention into impulse like that

 

I want us to use the same conditioner

 

I want to put my arms around you on a horse

 

Anyway come over

The fruit here is so small I think you’d like it

 

I feel like the sea receding beneath an ice cap

 

I have a comforter

And a Himalayan salt lamp that sweats

 

I walk around for garbage in the form of time

And for the romanticization of trees

 

I spent decades adjusting my purse in my lap

And now life blows at my face

 

And I bite it when I can

 

And actually

 

I want to be the horse

 

I think you probably had a quiet voice

Marbled with feeling