Wednesday, December 29, 2010

mcccx

They don’t make diners by the sea, at least not the right kind of diner.
                                                                  —Matvei Yankelevich

What a confusing guest,
causing the venetian blinds to close. What a
confusing ghost. I know what kind of poem this is.
It’s just thoughts (and a mirrored closet door).

Justified, one makes coffee and checks watches (also, one
watches checks). I see. I know

what kind of door this is.
And it was pretty good.