There were no innocent bystanders,
except a herd of deer, unable to perceive
the color orange. My method consisted
in having a plan, but I was letting the dirt
do my thinking—I’d had it around so long,
so close to me, I’d never bothered to put it
to use. I was taking the longest way home,
trying to see in the dark, learning the difference
between a tightrope and a horizon wherever
my body stopped. I looked on the ground,
on the street, in dumpsters, under your desk,
but you weren’t really there. I feel sorry,
Rauschenberg said, for people who think
things like soap dishes or mirrors or Coke bottles
are ugly, because they’re surrounded by things
like that all day, but what did he know
about declarations of love? I would
have asked you, but the TV was on.
