at high noon
at a small college near the beach
sober
the sweat running down my arms
a spot of sweat on the table

my grandmother had a serious gas
problem.
we only saw her on Sunday.
she’d sit down to dinner
and she’d have gas.

naked along the side of the house,
8 a.m., spreading sesame seed oil
over my body, Jesus, have I come
to this?
I once battled in dark alleys for

here they come
these guys
grey truck
radio playing
they are in a hurry

the words have come and gone,
I sit ill.
the phone rings, the cats sleep.
Linda vacuums.
I am waiting to live,

when you’re young
a pair of
female
high-heeled shoes
just sitting

a girlfriend came in
built me a bed
scrubbed and waxed the kitchen flo
scrubbed the walls
vacuumed

we are always asked
to understand the other person’s
viewpoint
no matter how
out—dated

we like to shower afterwards
(I like the water hotter than she)
and her face is always soft and pe
and she’ll wash me first
spread the soap over my balls

waiting for death
like a cat
that will jump on the
bed
I am so very sorry for