BKMK Press–UMKC, 63 pages, 1990
Out of print.
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INTERRUPTION
For a moment
I could not remember
what brought us
to this place
flat on our backs
and naked. We should
not have been talking,
or
trying to talk.
The room was too
still, the house
even more so.
The bed was a small
organ, and in the middle
of a long slow stroke,
when the hand is
an exquisite mind,
the phone rang
and like a fool
I answered.
A small shaky voice
from the twentieth century
crawled into my ear.
When I returned,
arms extended,
I had to answer again,
then we rolled over,
back to back,
and wandered off
to sleep.
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