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.