An Ether
Past the fountain out of repair
And the boarded diner
A small studio
You’d never told anyone about
Where old clothes have remained
Right where you’ve dumped them
Side by side
With random notes and sketches
When someone close to you
Has a different idea of what you represent
He insisted
You’ll write a check for the loan
There were other misjudgments
As well. Exits were being blocked
Down every hall I walked
Until a sort of muscle memory—
Well, I knew it all along, of course,
But thought it was in the future,
It rested like a memory—
This desire
For a place respecting anonymity
Oiling your .38 Special,
Like a criminal readying for benefits
A bottle of Jack Daniels—
This and more
Shaded by echoing buildings
With a glance toward the harbor
The water rough with small debris
Today
Source: Poetry (November 2011)