I can't think of anything else
to talk with you about. We have
discussed our jobs, our daily commute,
the foods we like and don't like.
You have ordered wine. I get a Pepsi.
People have died. We acknowledge that.
We're here and they're not. You get up
early. I get up late. I want to tell you
that I see your special dead person still,
mostly in the subway. She was wonderful.
Your new girlfriend is also a gem. How is
it possible to love people who no longer
exist? But they're everywhere, coming
and going in the world of the dead
as though they haven't ...
Q & A
Q. How important is theory in this poem? It seems as though
it just starts, goes nowhere, tells us nothing we need to know.
A. The concern here is with necessity, not fact. The poem could tell
you everything you wanted to know, but doesn't.
Some poems begin in the rinse cycle. This one goes right to spin.
Q. We noticed how marvelous the upper strata of the poem is. It suggests
the appeal of authoritarian faith in the old-fashioned