[Rooms by the Sea, Edward Hopper, 1951]


                                                                                 —mickey morgan

Woozy with the need for sleep

I sat down to write a poem.

A twentieth-century 1988 fatigue

lay over me and I pitied myself

so I fixed some popcorn,

took a dinosaur napkin down

from the refrigerator to wipe

my fingers clean as I ate

I wrote as I ate, laying ink and thinking of what I would say to you

tomorrow. I would confess how hard it all was

a daily grind with pre-dawn beginnnings

to post-midnight ends and I would look for

your concern, try to see how special a case I am.

And then I noticed how all my poems

hug the side wall of the paper

cement siding holding

on to the vertical

hunching in the shoulders,

eating  popcorn at one in the morning.


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