WEBVTT

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Two more poems I'll read.

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One.

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When I first got
here at the U of A,

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I had to live in
one of those dorms.

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It was just awful.

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And this isn't a poem about
a dorm, so I'm OK so far.

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But anyway, she had only one
arm, and this isn't symbolic,

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this is literal, but
she could do everything.

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She was always fixing the light
fixtures and skiing and I was

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always sitting around
being depressed,

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and she was moving and I wasn't.

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Anyway, she did meet a man,
the lucky person, and then

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she left, leaving me behind.

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That sometimes happens.

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There's a Disneyland
character in here named Dopey,

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and I think you
all know who he is.

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Favorite one of mine.

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Phyllis.

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I no longer button your
one sleeve and catch myself

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from buttoning the other,
armless, a closed mouth.

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You've moved out with a man,
taking with you hiking boots,

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skis, your left-handed gloves.

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When I first met you in
this yellowed, unlit room,

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I thought of Dopey, comical,
always trying hard to please.

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Forgive me.

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I was afraid you'd ask
me to do everything.

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That night, I wondered if
you had slept with a man

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and dreamed of your
stump blossoming

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into a wrist, a palm, five
fingers that would obey you.

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A month later, I dreamed my
familiar dream of arms stroking

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me, but something changed.

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I felt a hand growing,
giving me back

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what I took from myself, the
hope that, although imperfect,

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we are not alone.

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Tonight, limited and
lonely, I pick up

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the cup you left,
its handle broken,

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and I know you're
holding on not because

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of pain but for pleasure.

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Here, echoes of
your clothes ring

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in the closet, the
long chimes of sleeves,

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and everywhere is the sound
of pockets filling with hands.

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[APPLAUSE]

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