Tuesday, November 24, 2009


for three-quarters price, marked

down for clearance, making room
for something more relevant

this is my love, bought on a whim:

gifts, cheaply tendered
by the drug store, chocolates

offered sheepishly in the bag
with the coupons that bought them

and this room, when I open the door

first and take lead, dropping clothes
to their piles, takes stock of me;

crumbs buried in the carpet, small
plastic pieces of garbage, soda

tabs dropped, unpopped kernels, bits
flicked and brushed, long strands

settled invisible under foot

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