We tried a little house on Kenyon.
You bought curtains, some furniture,
And had me nothing to do
But take the garbage out.
It was all you could stand,
You said, “In a male”.
I suppose I wanted
To stack up blocks like sane people:
House and car, flowers and work;
As if I could ever pile those blocks
Beyond crazy for us.
I wonder now
How I thought that was my place.
That last night, I noticed the lunatic moon
Didn’t really stop at the door, and astonished,
As if I’d forgotten something three times repeated,
Left Kenyon Road.