"Poem of Nine A.M."
Stephen Burt
Sing for us whose troubles
are troubles we're lucky to have:
cold orange juice, and cold coffee,
corridor after corridor, as our
circadian rhythms fall into place:
work is a refuge from home, and home from work.
We have task force reports,
but no tasks, and no force,
so far removed from concrete and crisp air
we might be living anywhere,
enjoying each other's company, within bounds.
*
When I flew over the Grand Canyon, I loved-
who wouldn't?- to see the majestic gash in the earth,
but what moved me
were the flat hints of grids
that began and ended several miles away,
tan, ecru, beige, knife-scratches on dry toast,
and then houses- some might have been trailers- so faint
and isolated next to those faint lines.
Single grains of sugar. Sesame seeds.
We should never look down
on what gives strangers comfort,
on what we learn too late that we might need.
On this day in...
2010:
"What I Wouldn't Do" by Dorianne Laux2009: Weekend, no poem
2008:
"On The Days I Am Not My Father" by Scott Owens2007: Weekend, no poem
I learn by going where I have to go.
This is a request from a reader, and if you could help, that would be fantastic: "I am trying to find a poem, and it is driving me crazy! It is narrated by a man (I think it was a male author also) and it is basically about wanting someone to like him instead of how he always likes someone. Basically he is saying it would be nice if "for once" or "for a change" (if I'm remembering right) someone liked him and thought about him all the time etc instead of what he is used to. The time period could be present. It's simply-worded and has a very casual tone to it. I want to say there's a part about being nervous or fumbling around the person, or when you see the person but I could be remembering wrong."