as hometowns.
Now, you're not
so sure there are anymore.
A whole decade,
one big blank.
Important things
wait in desk drawers,
while you dust off meaningless junk
And repeat:
A whole decade,
one big blank.
Close your eyes
and take a hard swallow,
of great lake waves lapping—
cold and lonely,
but, like in a dream,
strange-
ly fake and two-dimensional.
Then, there are those other moments
lately, it's
so quiet,
you nearly lose your balance.
A whole decade,
one big blank.
But a blank
so palpable
and opaque—that it can't be
the silence of people not speaking;
it must be the one
that comes from too few of them
occupying
too huge a space.
