From "Ten Nudes" (6)

VI.

Dear God, I have no power animal,
And I want to shout something like

“the prosody of open heart surgery!”
And not worry too much about what it means.

In fact, I consider it a privilege
to pile on enthusiasm where it is not wanted.

(If you have ever dressed yourself when drunk
You’ll know what I’m talking about here).

But if that return leg is approaching,
When you will taxi above us in your gyrocopter,

Looking down upon our towns like thumbnail sketches
for some sort of grievous ideal,

Then I plan to be too busy
Worrying about my expressions in old photographs.

The view of love from the side.