A Weekend at Work and Five Deaths.

After Reading There Might Be an Infinite Number of Dimensions

by Martha Silano





I'm thinking today of how we hold it together,
arrive on time with the bottle of Zinfandel, a six-pack

of Scuttlebutt beer, how we cover our wrinkles
with Visible Lift, shove the mashed winter squash

into the baby's mouth, how we hold it all together
despite clogged rain gutters, cracked

transmissions, a new explanation for gravity's
half-hearted hold. I'm wondering how we do it,

comb the tangles from our hair, trim the unwieldy
camellia, speak to packed crowds about weight loss

or fractals. I'm wondering how we don't
fall to our knees, knowing a hardened pea,

lodged in the throat, can kill, knowing
liquids are banned on all commercial flights.

Leaves fall. The baby sucks her middle fingers.
Meanwhile, the refrigerator acquires

an unexplainable leak. Meanwhile, we call
the plumber, open wide for the dental hygienist,

check each month, with tentative circlings,
our aging breasts. Somehow, each morning,

the coffee gets made. Somehow, each evening,
the crossing guard lifts fluorescent orange flag,

and a child and her father cross the glistening street.

Comments

  1. Well, that certainly suited my mood this Monday! Excellent poem about amazing US.

    Sorry you had such a sad weekend. Sorry for the families who are wondering how they will "hold it all together."

    ReplyDelete
  2. Five? And the moon is not yet full.

    ReplyDelete
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  4. I hope you possess a nice day! Excellent article, well written and very thought out. I'm looking forward to reading much more of you later on.

    ReplyDelete

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Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)

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