My pen is a fickle lover. She tells me
Just a temporary parting.” “When will you
Some unintelligible mark upon the page.
Then says, “Wait for me.” So each day
to a shiny newness for a woman
She relishes playing
the minutiae upon my desk. Posing myself
clothed, or some soporific state of dishabille.
or pretend . Sharpen pencils, gather
to whomever else’s crotch she might be holding.
she will come. Because the day I any doubts