REMOTE

What do you want me to say?

Like a bent wire I let radio signals

tie themselves about me.

The hearts of larger animals

signal intent like a high-wire act:

what’s up there leaves us smitten

and then leaves us. In commercials

they always get it right the first time.


X-rays confirm our first suspicion: there are things

we should have done. At times I’m seized.

Like a minor sitcom character, I appear at the edge

of scenes. There are those who say love is a symptom

of the middle class, leather pants a symptom

of middle-class resentment. On the more remote

planets our laundry loses its studio crispness.

It’s not a matter of trying harder.

Believe me. I’ve tried.