It's one thing to want one's life to be fulfilling,
another to want it to be very long
A sun and a glacier sit
in folding chairs turned backwards,
the lumbar support like armor
protecting vitals in the chest. They wave
their arms as they speak. Glacier says
to Sun, "Saw a sparrow trying to crack
open the husk of a cicada on a driveway.
Never thought to use a driveway as a tool
like that." Sun says, "I know how the story
ends. The sparrow finds the husk
filled with air. Stops using tools."
Neither pays attention to the fallout
of their proximity, the melting
of one, the dousing of the other.
They take separate taxis home.
The brilliance of the sparrow
remains to be unleashed. I wake
knowing this. I eat a very small portion
of last night's supper as my breakfast.
You greet me as if it were any other
day, which it is, so you say,
Hey, how are you? I say, Well,
hiding the hole, the bucket, the rope,
wondering how thirsty you are.
If You're Lucky Is a Theory of Mine
Trio House Press
Copyright © 2013 by Matt Mauch
All rights reserved.
Reproduced by Poetry Daily with permission