The days have separated into building blocks.
No–I don’t mean day to day, but within days.
First is a block of sleeping late, then CNN. And
there’s my blog block and checking e-mails.
My leg hurts for awhile and maybe I try to write
a poem–that won’t rhyme. At 5 pm in my night
gown, yawning, yearning for graduate school
and the halcyon days of mutual excitement
over new ideas and possibilities and the burst
of mental balloons showering us like soap bubbles.
When my mind is last to go I can’t hardly make