Tuesday, January 11, 2011

houseguests in a blizzard

A year ago I had to pee
some things never change

a year ago I had to pee
but paused
my cave door half open

A year ago, though I had to pee
I paused,
hands on my stifling door
at the sight of snow in sick yellow light

A year ago, uncomfortable,
held in limbo,
half beyond my room
I watched as he watched, the snow, the yellow light, the iron bars
Our broken lute beside him at the window, a lovesick stranger

How could that happen
in our home, our squealing squalor, our dusty hospitality
his hoped-for one asleep and unwelcoming, full of secret ridicule
his stillness didn't fit us
his sadness made no sense to me
I went to the bathroom, I went back to bed.

The next day I had a cold.

Tonight, it is snowing and a year has passed. I have to pee. Nothing ever changes, no lessons ever learned.

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