A Late Snack
Midnight:
We lean on crude wood
Heavy with implacable emptiness
And nudge our cups.
This is bare anger I bring you, vulgar as shovels,
Not Dresden petulance pouting in sugary cheeks.
I'll tell you.
Whom love sufficed wants cheese,
Salt bacon and apples.
Eggs. Bread also--many warm loaves.
Have I ever asked forgiveness?
Listen:
What's called poetry dulls me.
The monotony of moonlight levels my head,
And I'll chew stale rolls tomorrow
Though you smile like soup.