Reason

to live in front of a window looking out on a slow world
is complicated – this afternoon
the streets frantic and at six it’s already night out
and i discover the shame
of not knowing how to arrive at the center of other lives
except through pathetic abstractions.

and that about there not being lives but life,
for example, and that’s why
mine is like everyone else’s . . .

suddenly the windows are filled with light.

(From Intemperie, 1995)

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