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.