and conspicuous-
feeling—all goose pimples
and rumpled underwear,
I might stand and shout
out the chilly bay window—
take it all back!
at the exacting light,
which, with its usual knife-
edged insensitivity,
is presently quizzing
all the neighboring
brick walls, needling
the street beneath, and
splitting the precious hairs of these
blunt stone hours
into cheap and hurried-
feeling moments—like this, each
one a little too sharp for my
taste in the morning.
