Gina Keicher
ASSEMBLAGE BEST SEEN
This is just like us. We are confusing
humans. We get like this. Between sap
and structure. I am counting on this nail
polish to stifle the feeling. Pony preserved
in the night sky by way of constellation.
Assemblage best seen from the mountains.
Do you see her when you go to the far place?
The middle of somewhere we stop the car
to check the engine, the light flickering
hurt at each turn signal. I want to play
tired woman walking home from work,
so I do not take a bag. I carry the milk
in my hand. When I get this way, I notice
the church on the corner, the sign
for a woman reverend. I ask myself
why I have not done something that good
for other people. I work toward a say
in how long the sun stays. Or how I appear
on an x-ray machine. It has been so long.
I would not know what to say. I would be tired,
walking with one hand clutching my purse.
I don’t know what to say. Your face carries
a car, drives slow in a wash aisle. World sounds
muted by wax rollers, water runs down
the paint. We will never have Paris,
but you don’t have to be so mean about it.
Listen, when we were walking around
those dry night sidewalks, saying we should
get a table, saying we should try brunch
the next morning, I knew we never would.