The Unusual Request on a Corner Close to Home
Love, try to remember that you and I are dying.
Watch the thick white blossoms fill in the concrete
cracks next to the dry cleaners where they are piling
like unearthly fabric. Maybe no one will see
and grind them into the soot beneath their feet
they soon will become. Maybe they will not smell
to the unobservant stranger, like the sweet
corn in the field and he will not be compelled.
But Love, remember, that even Adam finally fell.
Try to remember that we are dying. The good
story is not always as beautiful as we would
want it, but it is the only story that we can tell.
You may think I am cruel or unforgiving,
But Love, remember, tonight, we are living.