Sport 9: Spring 1992
Clearing the Air
Clearing the Air
The sky, sky blue—
a space completely
unfulfilled.
And nothing
I can do.
And nothing
you can do.
For we have implemented
our dissatisfaction
grumbling like an appendix—
its (pre)text of thunder
scrolled heavy over our house.
Days and nights
back to back
and now this gap,
this split, this ease,
the air so fine
I find I
cannot breathe.