Statistics

Gary Gildner

(1978)
 

Statistics say the heart is a long-stemmed glass
you happen across after the party has busted up,
that red wine crusted over the lip, the kiss
you once felt down to you toes, down where
the minnows poured themselves into a giant silver drop


Statistics say we are sprouting stiff black bristles
in all the places where we used to brush


Statistics say we will break six geranium pots
in the seventh year, on the morning of the eighth
you will catch yourself boring a hole
above the old one, the one that never filled up
standing on slivers of wishbones


Statistics say the bears in the zoo
scratch and yawn but they won't sleep with you


Statistics say no matter how many bottles you toss in the water,
no matter how many loops you scoop, the milkpods you puffed
out your cheeks for, flying and flying,
are gone, along with the grandpas
pulling covers over their chins


Statistics say you will quit walking barefoot
the summer your name disappears from the sand


Statistics say please or listen once too often
and then they forget and say it again,
and we always hear them, that's the wonderful part,
and then we forget and they repeat it, slowly,
only we are bending closer to the mirror by now
arranging something we want just so

Copyright © 2012

Schuyler W. Huck
All rights reserved.

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