Poem

Although I am a half hour / early I just missed you: / the keys are dustless on / the table and the toilet // is still bubbling. What / minute on the subway should / have been a proper goodbye? / If connections had been // better would your sore / throat have let you whisper / “Adieu, sagesse, I’ll / stay with you forever”? // I am alone now. Only / my own face stares back / from the window, the / record, this white paper. // I put on my black shirt / and my sneakers, whistle / Glazounoff and try to / pick up the dirty room. // Last night I said “I’m / sick.” Today is very windy. / The curtains are pulled / back but the sun goes // somewhere else. I’ve / seen all the movies. I / think I’m going to cry. / Yes. To kill the time.