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"The Meaning of Ordinals"
My first lover --
my second lover --
I thought the number
would be small, finite. I would stop and cultivate
a garden, rows of perennials and the inevitable variations
for spice and experiment, something for the kitchen.
When the number mounts, I lose faith in the words.
I stick to present tense, in language and then
in my heart -- the pain of provisional commitment
throbs in the words "for now."
Fill the air with soulful sopranos
Slide clever devastating sentences in front of my eyes
Burn a stick of champa and kneel with me
I'd rather run around the lake ten times in the rain
than hurt you with my doubting heart.
I sit at dinner blindfolded and converse
by tapping tines on an Oltec plate.
You hear what you want to hear.
-- Don Shewey
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