UTILITARIAN

While I'm here,
I must speak (when I do speak)
for everything: the blood 

and the spittle, the dust 

and the dirt—which, 

for their parts, may all take their
silent turns wearing me—
not with any sure kind 

of elegance or precision—as in 

pure white gold stud earrings 

inlaid with diamond—but 

with a certain nonchalant-
yet-explicit equanimity: 

say, a well-stretched green

maternity dress—one of many, 

perhaps, hung forgotten 

in a closet—still redolent 

with memories, and billowing 

agreeably (for the time 

being, at least) in the light 

morning breeze.