COUNTRY LIVING

It’s all in your head, the articles say,

your life slanting at weird afternoon angles

against which you bump your head. Then the sudden bloom,

a second spring, and your noggin swells like interest rates.

It’s not easy to live like this, but it’s doable.


A friend stops by. He’s sad, so you buy him a beer

and he tells you some things.

Then he gets on a train and leaves town for a while,

but it’s still summer, there are people out.

Some of them are pretty, their skin tanned.


They’re sweating – as are you – as if greasing their way

through popsicle season. In tongue-bath weather,

couples drive out to the country to hold hands.

It’s not that I’m lonely, your friend had said,

but the hayloft of his brain behaves otherwise.