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Mark Jarman
reads
Short Drill
in Real Audio format.
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Go pity someone. On the median
The man with cardboard sign has company.
Three cop cars stop with celebrating lights
And the traffic which sped by is interested.
Now, you figure, he's no longer lonely.
So, pity something as you do yourself.
The eyes set deep by late hours in your wife,
The boredom and fatigue of work without
Believing it will ever be enough,
Except to be more work, for all your life.
Pity the eyes, your children's eyes, that watch you
With a green love the world will eat like fruit.
And think of all you'd like to say to God
If He were here, your bespoke deity,
Who cannot come but sends a substitute.
Pity the air that stuffed its cheeks with summer.
Pity the earth, warmed down to its bedrock.
Pity the winter that cannot resist
And has no one to turn to when it kills.
Pity the tilting planet and its shock.
Yes, pity the shock. So many deaths by morning,
So many spiders, beetles, fireflies,
Husks that have left their egg sacks dangling,
And then the day returning without pity
With its inhumanity and human eyes.
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