Raymond

                

I'm such a sucker
for letting saline sap
distort my view of the street
as I stand at the window.
That poem I just read.
"My Boat" by Raymond Carver.
Why do I fall for it?
I should go fuck. Or eat
something. Take a bath.
I don't know why I do.
But those words. Make
your peace with death
and style. Do it quickly.
There's not much time.