Elegy for the Couplet

those days the sun rises
behind the law office’s copper tinted windows

and you’d rather die and come back
as a bottom feeding fish content in its thirty-gallon globe

those days when Tom Waits permeates the bedroom
with his barstools on fire

and the Spanish and the Polish poets are filled with more
irony than a steam engine submarine

those days those long
long days sinking into the ocean’s fish gut dark

even the cat avoids you
she sits at the window as if without appetite

forgotten eggs still on the table
perfectly burnt toast as old as the Ten Commandments

and the idea of going to hell is the same
as going for bread at the grocery store

and if you could toss the tie for a skirt
and take her hand

in public
and kiss in public

and walk as if one body
in public

pack up the Beatle and leave town together
far out into the secrecy of sage

and listen to the quick wit of lizards
and be together as if it were normal

simple as a couplet
heroic melodic

giving each other the only thing
they haven’t already taken


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