"October 14-- The Dow closes up 10,015."
I should say, there's a reference in this poem
to the poet James Schuyler, who, if you don't know his work,
is worthy of checking out.
"I bleed a little, peyote tea waits in the refrigerator,
a Ferris wheel spins and spins at the fair.
After the miscarriage, we search for rings
with missing stones, unmatched earrings, sell our gold,
ride the Ferris wheel bigger than the one in Paris.
My parents pray for us.
I play Dylan's 'Spanish Boots' over and over,
Watch a sunroof fill with night, like seeing a film of people I
recognize but don't really know.
Schuyler says, 'You can't get at sunset listing colors.
' Between the liars, trees, and shopping carts, we buy a house,
cry in bed, leave the child unnamed.
Pink, lemon, pearly blue, white."