It was time to hurry up
to finish and begin
except she was done for, done
and I never even started.
Needs & needs & needs
milky breast, red meat
innocent fatal distractions
the dead bell, I could hear it.
Annihilation, the literary ending
the not quite epilogue, letter addressed
blank with recrimination, another not poem
for the husband, the liar-lover
the bees, the dew, the baby.
You would have written tomorrow
downstairs cats squalling, kettle on
I could hear it,
click and hiss orange-blue
in the dark of the morning, the pilot would be lit.
Comments