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Poem without Intimacy

the other day I was shopping

in one of those giant incredibly brightly lit stores

you can apparently see from space

wheeling a massive empty cart

thinking this is a lot like thinking

why do I go to sleep

not having brushed my teeth and dream

of the giant failure

known as high school again

on the loudspeaker was a familiar song

by Quicksilver Messenger Service

there were no lyrics but I remember

it says we are all skyscrapers

under one blue rectangle

that never chose us

to be these sentinels

who imperceptibly sway

and watch people far below

like tiny devices no one controls

enter our various sunlit glass conversations

the world is old

and full as it will always be

of commerce and its hopeful nonprofit mitigations

future products from the Amazon

will cure ailments we have

and also ones not yet invented

looking down I saw my cart was full

of a few boxes of some cereal I do not recognize

four flashlights and a pink plastic water bottle

made of some kind of vegetable

that will eventually like me into the earth

harmlessly decompose

and then I passed an entire row of plastic flowers

and wanted to be the sort of person

who bought them all

but really I am a runway covered in grass

and all I truly love is sleep

from Sun BearFind it in the library

Copyright © 2014 Matthew Zapruder
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, Inc.
on behalf of Copper Canyon Press.

Published in Matthew Zapruder Poems

This program is supported in part by a grant from the Idaho Humanities Council, a State-based program of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

Any views, findings, conclusions, or recommendations expressed in this (publication, website, exhibit, etc.) do not necessarily represent those of the Idaho Humanities Council or the National Endowment for the Humanities.