Archive for September 4, 1993

The Lift

Posted: September 4, 1993 in Poetry
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I wait with the irrational fears.
I’m packed in the same elevator as them,
standing shoulder to shoulder;
they’re all in business suits and
they look almost friendly.
but it is just because they recognize me
from my frequency in riding the lift.
my relationship to them is this:
we see each other on the elevator,
which can take a long time
to decide which floor it is going to
let me out on.

An Ill-Made Candle

Posted: September 4, 1993 in Poetry
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you almost caught your room on fire
with an ill-made candle;
but forever with me is
the image I have when you explained
that you rushed it outside
burning your hands
naked and dripping from the bath
and dashed it to the ground.
all I came by to see
was a broken ceramic plate
and an enormous water stain
on the walkway,
and you, with a burnt thumb.