Fired from the jobs we at one time had
We’ve been spending more time together,
My friend and I, looking out the window.
It’s an outside there, or here, we have its
Morning to ourselves, silences below vast
Buildings, lights turned off, now a line of trees
Grown out of concrete, a new day's anxiety.
It doesn’t occur to me, not right away
That he comes over without his face.
I stand by the window. I wait.
Where did you put it? Today I said
We’d do a crossword. That’s now
Out of the question. Fine he says,
Taking it from his pocket
So that I can see it again. It lies back
On the pillow of his palm. He doesn’t say
So. He seems to ignore the possibility
Answering instead with an underhand toss
Sending it across the room into the trash.
Nice shot I say. If only I were richer
Like the man down the street who sells
Insurance. I would afford more space.
Yet we remain like this, standing
Now, not looking, not
Staring, but we have by this morning
Forgotten, if this is inevitable
Wear and tear, that is
Until we hear its crying
So small within itself
So loudly now
Now everything crying
Announcing this
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