populist poets

and from these failed relationships that make up your mid twenties,
all you have left is a collection of books you would never have read on your own
(which are mostly ok but you could just as well live without)
and hearing loss suffered at shows for bands whose names have long escaped your memory
(and for that there is good reason, and now you know for certain-sure that you do not like punk music)

and your husband (God bless him) does not listen to punk music
and reads only the sports section and the occasional political magazine
(and for that and other things you love him and you
appreciate that you know that he loves you and where he sleeps at night)

but you never dance together until 4 am in a bar full of strangers you never stop to know
and you never miss the train on purpose to sit together on a beach and
watch the clouds run across the waves like foam

and this is the result of those mid twenties relationships that have brought you to your early thirties
where you are so much happier and your life is much more certain--
but yet, but yet---

(from Se Refiere a Nosotros: Poems for You)