Chill night duty: rehouse the coffee plant
And the palm grown from that Florida nub,
Now tall enough to search for its own kind,
Its own shade of green, resourceful, not smug,

Thursday: met Susan at the art college.
While she and M talk, you search the passing
Forms for a school-time self—weren’t you once
One of them, as poorly dressed, classes,

Dissection classes every quarter (or
Was it semesters chopping up those years?),
Aged lectors radiating formaldehyde,
Well past their prime yet clear. coherent. […]