Summer, 2002 / No. 8

A heavy key

On an iron hoop

Admitted me

To a cubicle room

Where a desk and a wooden

Chair were the only appointments—

Aside from a pole in the corner and on it—



Man’s blue coat.

It wasn’t yours to offer, but you did so nonetheless,

Extending the coat to the coatless

Like St. Vincent de Paul in an act of goodwill.

Bone-cold, all torn up by attachment,

I declined to take it

Though I didn’t have to with-

Hold, it was