As Blue as the Eyes of a Czar

I came at the day forgetting the sun
was a star: then the day came at me
reminding me of its strange bargain:
just this: I could do anything that I wanted –
and it would proceed whether I had done
nothing, or all that could possibly ever be
done: I could love it, have fun – or despair

and repair to my bed. I tried that: it worked
for a while: curled up like a gerbil, I listened
to PBS kid shows – learned ethics and
alphabets and the importance of greeting
your mom with a smile: then I got up,
and simmered a small pot of rice, over-
buttered and -salted it, ate it fastidiously,

while I pondered the slice of reality I’d
now engendered: how to break through
its hex: maybe sex? Maybe not. I emptied
the pot and I washed it and left it to dry
and looked out at the brutally cold
winter sky – as blue as the eyes of a czar.
I remembered the sun was a star.


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