We Haven't Turned Around

 

THE CRITIC NEXT DOOR DROPS IN FOR A VISIT

Just thought I’d let you know   

that you have a mind like Time magazine.

It’s always: “on the other hand…

and yet…I’m sure

there’s another side to the story.”

I don’t mean

that in a bad way, but.  

Is it true you’re working

on something in a language

that literally nobody reads or speaks anymore,

sacred texts or whatnot?

A project similar, say, to climbing Goat Fuck

Mountain in Eastern Albania,

a place you can’t find on a map,

probably because it doesn’t exist.

By the way, we missed you

at the party yesterday.

It was the whole block, you know,

but who’s hung up on exclusiveness?

People say you were with someone

who’s dying, offering solace,

compassion, the resources of your charm and wit. Anyone

we know? Anyone we’ll miss?

Did you see the sunset yesterday?

And the day before? A deep golden rusty pink

is how I would describe it.

Gaudy, a pretty mess. Would

no doubt be sticky

if we could touch it.

If there is a God

at least we know  

now what His favorite colors are

and that His taste really sucks.