I'm not afraid
to be a
fool, of
non-fruition,
of nothing
happening.
Like a light that shines
in the already calm,
bright middle of day—
sometimes I get down
all the dusty cups
and glasses from my
cabinets, lay them
out across the table,
and just watch them
all remain empty—
in the unutterable name
of possibility.
Other times, I simply rest
in that relatively-
pointless space
between the last line
of one poem
and the title
of your beautiful
next one—not because it's your best,
but because it's the most
unobtrusive
and the most workable
place I can think of.