The Last Time You Were Sitting There

 

We thought we’d give a little less
attention to the news today and air
some less remarked-on views:

reporting on the un-decoded way,

for instance, everything construes
itself from nothing. You know –

the last time you were sitting there,

besieged with care, distracted by
the blaring self-attack to which

you privately subject yourself,

so that the middle distance you
could be accused of looking into

might as well have sheltered several
rings of Dante’s hell? – when suddenly
you felt an overwhelming urge

to nap? And you awoke to something

nestling in your lap? And it was
not your cat? Account for that.








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