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capacity
this small pocket is for thanking:
in some other winter -- that one
where we're swimming up to our
eyes with messy abbreviations --
we've the ability to lift our cancer
hands, full with the dead stuff.
capacity
three tons is kind of harsh,
or, if you like the centers, or
if you like the fawns, or if
you might be cliffside, or if you
aren't my neighbor.
no, you're the windy.
no, you're clammed up.
capacity
everyone returns home.
everyone returns home.
everything returns home.
everyone returns home.
this is not the boxed-up hall.
this is not your center point.
this is where you hack and spit
and shrug the things they're bound to find.
capacity
leftwise of real elbowing &
above our sopping heads &
wrapping the willful with vigor &
reaching outward & with ugly hands
there you are, panting
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