Not Exactly the Sun
it’s a yellow light.
I mean walking down the street
it’s a yellow light
there
soundless.
picking up the telephone
or peeling an orange
it’s there
the same yellow light.
shoot an arrow through it
and it’s still there
still yellow.
fight with your woman
at night
it moves across the room
stands between you
still yellow—
it’s got a
head
fat arms
obese body
wide legs
no eyes.
I saw it at my mother’s funeral
I saw it last night in the garden
I saw it sliding among the bottles at
the supermarket
I don’t know what it is.
it sits inside of me now
and yet it looks out at me
from the walls.
we can’t nail this one to the cross
we can’t ask it to leave
we’ll have to live with it
like we live with dresser drawers
dogs
cats
landlords.
if it comes to see you
don’t try to phone me.
I’m unlisted
now.
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