Aren't you tired of these poems?
There is a moment in every day when I kneel before the love I feel for you. Then I remember that I am still that man. And I know that the work of my life is to be that man, who bends over a blank tablet, humbled by his constant and meaningful love for you. It’s eight twenty-seven in the evening. Once again, the thought of you has saved me from the puzzle of my indifference.
and the hard wheel
at the center of the chest
becomes a soft wheel
God lies down next to his lamb
so the creature can
gather itself
His queen is massaged
by a thousand versions
of his most devoted drone.
and you are there
smiling at someone else
in my vision of the lost kitchen
and that’s how
I finish my work
until it starts again.