Self-Portrait with House Slippers and Tap Water
—after Jay Hopler
In bed—a rose thorn
in my finger. A celebration
of the day was all I turned out to be.
Maybe disappearing is what I meant.
A lover’s hair clogging the drain—
maybe disappearing is what I meant?
The beginning of a beautiful season!
Even if what they say—pain exists
to magnify love—
you wouldn’t change your hum
to accommodate loneliness.
O dog, O dog, can I understand hunger
for a moment
through your mind?
What would heaven be
if you couldn’t manage abstractions?
Or if you could?
Headlights for a reading lamp—
The beginning of a beautiful season—
I am washing the sand,
I am washing each grain of sand.
From A Hotel Lobby at the Edge of the World - Milkweed Editions, 2012