Monday Afternoon

1.

We Are So Like Our Machines

she is as nervous as a turn signal
impatient for the light to change

2.
Look at the Time

are those your hands on the enameled dial
left straight up right perpendicular
is it 3 or 9 is it night or afternoon

the digital colon blinks red or green
boxy numbers like mirrored letters
if you’re looking for words

and the sun-dial like a stone coin
on a stunted Doric column
with its triangular sail blown by daylight’s indifferent wind

you foolish creature why do you attempt to follow
calculate or corral
the one thing you can never possess

3.
inarticulate your heart

inarticulate your heart
tumbles like a drunk
down a flight of stairs

once punk and raging
angry at whatever-you’ve-got
shredding flags of surrender

it’s now more like a white kite
adrift in blue sky ambiguities
sharing space with small birds

catch yourself graceful
hair, arms and legs ribbons
tied to red birthday balloons

tied around bright-paper packages
the small boxes sequestering
the gifts of your heart