polyhsv (polyhsv) wrote,

Poem for today

The Thrifty Lover
by Marge Piercy

At the last moment you decided
to take the bus
rather than the plane,
to squander those hours
staring at your reflection
on a dark pane.

Then all night you rummaged
my flesh for some body else.
You pinched and kneaded
testing for ripeness, rot,
suspicious and about to reject me
or knock down the price.

You lectured me like a classroom
on your reading of the week,
used homilies, reconditioned anecdotes,
jokes with rebuilt transmissions.
All the time your eyes veered.
What's wrong? I would ask?

Nothing, you'd answer, eyes full
of nothing. He goes through women
quickly, a friend said, and now
I see how you pass through,
in a sealed train
leaving a hole like a tunnel.
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