for Jane Smiley
Mid-morning it’s still there
like a drawer full of shiny
cutlery. You take a
drive but it follows you,
as niggling as a chess
set missing a bishop.
You sing it to your partner
thinking you can pass it off
like a curse. If it lasts all
day it’s yours for life. Friend,
it’s always the worst calypso.
You’re not gonna hum Mozart.
You will learn to live with it
like your brother-in-law the
Republican. Just today a
jay sang high in your oak but
you could not hear her. And
the commercial on TV has
your name and address. Life is
inescapable, like, I want
to say, the stranded elevator car.
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