721 Readings

Two Hands

You watch some cable after postoperative haze.
Out on the street, people:
in directions they carry their health.

On the edges of the city, cornfields.
Where you sit, a philodendron grows under
florescent lights. There is no street.

There are mannered gestures.
There is a preview on the screen
of a video game with zombie jesters.

The room is impressively clean
but you make no comment.
Those people aren’t here now.

You have two hands, a back.
You have closed a lot of doors
and are thinking of a back door

to an imaginary winter
where you’d be warm in mittens.
You’d just stand there.
Posted 09/18/10
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