Tuesday, September 9, 2008

THE NEW YORKER poem



Why Not Smile

We smile for ourselves,
Search the quietest moments Satie had to offer

Looking for a selfish reason to covet under covers pulled close,
In the middle of the night when we are not talking and wondering,

Who can hold out the longest?

I even change my name after you fall asleep,
So you won't recognize me in the morning

When you awake to a pseudonym,
A stolen identity reciting an ad-libbed version of Contamine's Les Antiques,

Because my memory is not as good as yours,

You,
Still mad,
Me,
Smiling to myself
And wondering,
Why?

still image from joseph feltus' film 'solo duets'

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