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 trhe 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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