That radical hour when exactly
nothing is possible, as pitiless and desultory
as an afternoon in Detroit.
Too late for lunch, too early for dinner
Too late for a nap, too early for bed
I feel I might go crazy but I’ve
got to keep my head.
I reach for the phone to call friends for drinks,
but I feel a cold coming on and climb into
bed with a cup of tea and a well-founded
boredom, waiting for mittleschmerz or enlightenment
or whatever comes next.
--published by Former People