Like the seasonal
fretting of birds, their
riffs of maps and plans
friends at 11:30 p.m.
earnest, affectionate
suggest car pooling
and I honest with drink,
ennui and attachment
to the one place and time
--that I am ever unaccompanied and by myself save the ten minutes in the morning, on the chaise with hot honeyed water. What?
I'm never even alone in the bathroom anymore, accompanied as I am by entreaties and questions and barging-ins--
demur, characterizing myself
to their surprise, possible affront
as "So not a car pool person."
--
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