Action, reaction:
I wake up.
I close my eyes.
Action, reaction, reaction:
Teenaged boys grunt and holler
in the school yard, preying on
a leather ball with fist-fangs.
I wait them out.
Do they ever study?
Action, reaction:
“Why are you fat?”
one of them yells.
I retreat, inside.
Reaction, action:
The dogs sulk.
They have not had a walk.
(Blame: me, teenaged boys.)
Action, no reaction:
I call B.
She is not there.
Action, action, reaction:
A colleague left his wife ten
years ago.
He remarried, the old tale,
the young wife.
He has been happy since.
Action, action, reaction, reaction:
We divorce.
It goes on.
I cannot imagine happy since.
They tell me I used to know
happy well.
Reaction:
I can tell beauty when I see it.
But beauty is the cat who will
not permit herself to be touched.
Admire, let the tears fall, she is
not yours.
Reaction:
Happiness nestles
in your lap,
is pleased to bleed out
in your arms. You
can have her for as
long as you can,
no hard feelings.
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