This poem is taken from PN Review 256, Volume 47 Number 2, November - December 2020.
Time Management and other poems
Time Management
The Dalston night is still warm,
the jasmine strong. I’m wondering,
as I lock up, if these rotting windows
could keep anyone out. Even the wisteria
gets in and snakes dizzily around
the kitchen wall in September.
A musical groan from the balcony tells me
the night is not over for Donny
ensconced on the comfy orange corduroy
chair – it was for us but it’s his now,
his striped marmalade coat
blending with the saffron cord.
He croons again to me – so
I stay a while but he knows
I’m itching to go. He stands up on
...
The Dalston night is still warm,
the jasmine strong. I’m wondering,
as I lock up, if these rotting windows
could keep anyone out. Even the wisteria
gets in and snakes dizzily around
the kitchen wall in September.
A musical groan from the balcony tells me
the night is not over for Donny
ensconced on the comfy orange corduroy
chair – it was for us but it’s his now,
his striped marmalade coat
blending with the saffron cord.
He croons again to me – so
I stay a while but he knows
I’m itching to go. He stands up on
...
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