poetry for no reason

[jaeclectic]

With a ten-foot pole

The sky is white and nerveless and involves
Standing off at a ludicrous distance, thinking
Bad thoughts — well, not bad really, rather say
Homeless, images of a time and place
Long since scattered to dust — but still, what power!
My dearest wish — but one shouldn't have wishes,
Wishes are horses that kick you in the heart,
Then ask you if you'd like another ride.
I rode one once, or let's say she rode me —
But you don't want to hear that story again.
I know I don't. Maybe you'd like to hear
About a time and place that kept their distance.
The sky was white and nerveless... Leave it at that.

Robert Mezey


torn from a copy of the New Yorker in my therapist's waiting room