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Void and Compensation (Last Quarter)


No overtime. Because we tend the rose,
and when it curls into itself, its head,
weak neck, inevitably droops as if its lids
can remain no longer in light, need sleep;
because little packets offer small sustenance
and the water powdered has taken on
a sheen and some silt; because the scent
that fills the house now takes the hallway out;
because we’ll snap said stalk in two, throw
out the thornier version and, stuck,
bleed a little, see some crimson, and think
a colored runner to a gilt chair might make,
if we would walk it, our footing, our odds,
and our over; because we play to win;
because we will not tie but go for two,
all preparation garnered and playbooks dispensed,
and all wonderful things having blossomed;
because what takes the hallway out must have
a plot out in the world, some trellis for growth,
some ribbed safekeeping for the heartfelt,
we with the heavy heads—wake up—must sing,
because, because, because, because, because.

Posted 08/27/11
Originally published in Spinning Jenny (issue 9)
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