Yes, hello,
It’s me. I live here in
This lonely
Tower. It’s not like I’m waiting on a prince. Such
Tripe, such perversity, to do such a thing. To just
Wait. So, this morning, before the dawn arrived, just
When I started to hear the trash truck ease its way into
The alley
That sits below of my window
To gather the garbage from
The back patio of this apartment building, my lonely
Tower, as I call it, I got up,
Took a long shower
And felt— I felt one with
The universe? I felt
Wishy-washy about the day that might follow; how
I might, after the din of the trash truck was long gone, and the day had moved
Into afternoon, welcome the possibilities that the dark of night cannot begin to offer.
...I Have Written an Aubade
Into afternoon, welcome the possibilities that the dark of night cannot begin to offer.
...I Have Written an Aubade
