morning poems

 

today I am weighed down by poetry

I hate poems, like resumes, that cross the one-page boundary
and scatter on the floor without their other half

oh Walt,
I still love you

today I am
weighed down by gas-station donuts
I think about gathering us into a hallway
sticky-floored
without chairs or heat
                          heavy hanging lights

all of us,
cigarette burned

we have all been touched without the excuse of love

but once
in that dark hallway -
           the suck and flow of humanity,
the backwash of life
and your hand, warm
in mine