The Today Show
It’s hard to know when to break
the seal of morning, fill
the toilet bowl with sunshine
and stand naked at the window
of my study, a glass in one hand
and the Brita pitcher in the other.
They still make the day out of day.
The mirror knows. It guards
its famous seam. A barking dog
frays and frets the light.
To put coins back into circulation.
To nudge a decimal point a place.
If in the walls the copper pipes woke
knowing their value, they’d shudder.
Adopt, but only in your mind,
a mile of highway somewhere,
its berm grown three-dimensional
in the dawn. Brush your thoughts
against the grain of a spiky lawn.
The raindrops, digital on the screen,
remain analog on the pane.
The east charges hard upon us—
eats weather, shits night.