after Tracy K. Smith
What do you have to say for yourself?
Where are the keys? Why do you shake?
Who do you hope to feed with this sweat?
Who are you fueling? With my hands
behind my back, can you guess the lucky fist?
What does your body have to say for itself?
And its body? And the one after that?
Where do you come from? Where are you going?
How far back was the greenhouse? How far
forward is the graveyard? With your hands behind
your back, can you make a fist? Can you reach
the glove box? Whose beating heart do you hope
to kill with this sweat? One of us always tells the truth.
The other one is driving.
2025