I think you and I are just competing to play the victim or something.
Don’t forget the nice things like the flowers I sent you yesterday.
Nor the fact they taught me to like Jimmy Carter and then
how to love Ronald Reagan. Pizzeria Uno with a copy of
Ploughshares, playing,
but not at my best behavior, particularly with you.
Or walking hand in hand on the sidewalk on a beautiful night
with gorgeous long hair. A moon to die for.
How smart you’ve become lately!
That was obvious fodder for Altman, chewing on a towel,
watching the bridge lights turn orange. Having painted over
each and every cloud.
—Poetry on the 4th
