Make It New
There it stands, unmade,
like a bed or an apology,
or a long unspoken sentence
with an apple in its throat.
What could be simpler?
Grammar urges each sentence
to its close so that grammar
may close its files, though
each sentence holds open
its funnel of a throat so long
as it can against the flood
of simple things to say,
like sleep well, or I’m sorry
or don’t touch it, since it’s
already made and we didn’t
notice until now, and next
comes the fever of unmaking
whatever it may have been.
