Too much what?
(Rei Terada)
Too much commotion much too late at night
from too many coyotes too often
too near the house. Too suddenly too quiet
once they kill what they kill. Too many women
disappearing in too-mysterious
circumstances, from this too-small small town,
too long before the body surprises
some hiker too far out in the canyon
when the river dries too low, which it does
too soon each summer of this too-long drought.
Too much I don’t accept but can’t refuse.
Too much I can do too little about.
Too many complicities. Too much Yes,
you do to brook my protest No, I don’t.
No comments:
Post a Comment