And I'm going to finish with the last two in the book,
one is called "Obsessive."
It could be a clip.
It could be a comb.
It could be your mother coming home.
It could be a rooster perhaps it's a comb.
It could be your father coming home.
It could be a paper.
It could be a pen.
It could be your childhood sinking in.
The toys give off the nervousness of age.
It's useless pretending they aren't finished.
Faces faded, unable to stand, buttons lost down the drain
during baths.
Those were the days we love down there, the soap disappearing
as the water spoke saying, it could be a wheel, maybe a pipe.
It could be your father taking his nap legs propped straight,
the head tilted back, the end was near
when he could keep track.
It could be the first one, it could
be the second, the father of a friend
just sickened and sickened.