I used to share floor space with Geri,
but serving the ambivalence of one who inspires
fury, madness, poetry, & wisdom didn't
really end up being my thing.
Anyway, the ravens would squawk at each other all night
every night,
& though I never was one for much sleep,
I preferred my thoughts to myself.
So I wander, now.
I like to eat poetry.
I knock off the hats of people I dislike as they pass me on the sidewalk.
I like to pick out couples in bars,
& predict whose face will flash resentment first,
& whose will flash forgiveness.
I stare at people for much longer than is socially appropriate.
I like looking through crowds
for the red hair & green eyes & pale face of the woman I fell
next to love with in Kejimekujik National Park,
though if I ever find her I have a feeling I'd turn to ice.
I backpack along the emotional wildernesses of perfect strangers
I'll buy them drinks, if I have the money,
& listen & listen & sway.
I hunt, I suppose. Not sure what for.
I'm fascinated by anything you can swear I've never seen before.
My eyesight isn't very good,
but I can smell your doubt from here.
Don't do that. Don't doubt.