When I first heard about the Twin Towers
I thought, “How do we move on from here?”
And the next day I cracked
and poured three eggs on a skillet,
made myself an omelet.
I bought
boneless, skinless chicken breasts.
I made stuffing.
I baked an apple pie
with an old family recipe,
sprinkling cinnamon
generously over the crust.
In my head I colored each day
like another barn
in a paint-by-numbers landscape.
Do you understand?
Let me put it this way; when we meet
I will fuck you
so moderately you will not want to call.
But you will.
Each number pressed will feel as rewarding
as stepping over a load
of dirty laundry. Do you know why?
Because we move on
by doing things that bored us before.