There were full glasses on the table

-

There were full glasses on the table
that first night, and your scent
was faint, but sweet.

Our conversation went something like,

"no, better... usually alone...
no, worse... happy...
something like that... yes."

Something like that... yes.

You were endearing.

Our glasses were filled
again and again

and then they were empty.

The night became warm
but we were no longer thirsty.

There Were Multiple Things We Did

-
in all the wrong order.

Dissatisfied
with the functioning of things
we get the vague urge
to tinker.

We were wrong when we said
there is always time--
study the structure
of a crowd:
someone is always leaving
or coming back;
someone is always lost or missing.
--Written by Richard Fox
Date unknown

The Eye is Dark-Adapted

-

& the weight of weather
is supported by someone's watching eye.
Something potential readies itself.

Because I photograph this glass of ice again & again
just to see how it looks photographed
I will never have to look anything in the eye again.

Inside there are ceilings
because someone misses
having the sky. There are notions
collecting overhead
because someone sleeps square
beneath the fluted lighting fixture
pretty as a wedding cake
hanging in the dark.

The night inflates itself
after daylight stutters. A luna moth
slips into a streetlamp
overspun with a rash of spider mites
& takes a piece of the moon.

There is a technique to sadness
just as there is to photography;
I remember each step in the mechanics:

first there is the thing which saddens
next memory is engaged all penny dreadful
then there is always at least one problem to be solved:

how do I do this
how do I do that
will I need to remember this

how?

Written by Richard Fox
Date Unknown