The first line of this poem plays the car Saab S-A-A-B
and sob S-O-B The real estate agent drops in unexpectedly.
I hate her Saab.
Her sob too, which I can hear through
the space-time continuum.
She cried once, and now, she opens my door unannounced,
an ounce of apology.
It was there once in the space-time continuum.
In present, she says, I won't say ain't around you,
or I better not.
She must have read my manifesto, my I
will kill users of colloquial contractions.
I'm hard core, on the corner afraid to go home.
I am a hole, a hole in one, she must think.
Please, miss, I promise.
I will place a pink bow on my door,
on my pretty, little head, and trim my toenails
and tell the prospective buyers of my undying love.
I will empty my lungs, shouting, bye, bye, at the corner for you
with my clean teeth, my big heart.
I am doing it now in space-time in the continuum.
Can't you see?
Can you pick up the phone and call?
I am missing your voice, your clean teeth.