A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature
Not as a man, but like a man:
in a two-room cabin
with pegs where I’d hang
five shirts, two pairs of pants.
A peacoat, watch cap. Boots and galoshes
by the door. A dog leash.
Curtainless windows and certainly
no ruffled pillows piled on the bed.
Worktable on trestles. By accident
of schooling I already know
ball peen hammer, rip and crosscut saw.
I’ll have a power saw too, power drill,
make a kitchen shelf for an assortment of cans,
black beans and WD-40 among them,
put up a pendulum clock. Spend my money
on a weather station and high octane.
And like a man, I’ll write a book about it,
Where I Went and Why I Went There,
Seven Steps to the Simple Life,
or What I Think and Feel and Why You Should Care.
copyright Arlene Weiner 2016