Everybody Loves Raymond generously.
So I have spent today $160 at Structure.
Here I am. What have I missed from
giving up Arkansas? Why do my words
not echo, like C.D. Wright’s, that long,
lost country? Honestly, where does
she live? “Outside Providence.”
What largesse! After small poetry,
grieve racism. Then drive. Drive to
Holliston, to Big Sur, into Obsession.
This is the table where I met him. Not
much more than the silly words that
are volleyed back and forth across it.
We still sleep with each other—on
occasion.
Your tall poem is hard
to look at because your eyes are
so beautiful.
