Well, You Needn’t Poem

Well, You Needn’t Poem By Karen Volkman

In discord this incipience, disregard.
You are unhappy with the slant of the windows.
You eat an egg for breakfast, and are ungrateful.

Your hair is a black and gray wing that could be clipped.
I’m not the necessary angel.

My coffee is hot and bitter and so I like it.
Hunter-red your jacket, visible rube.

You know one, two, three, five things and like to sing them.
A mattress on the floor, a cork beneath the chair.

What do you know about comings and goings?
Speak to me sweetly of the smoothness of skins.

No light, no moon, no morning asks our opinion.
Spruce tree, white pine, where do you list?
What am I doing and whom do I move?
One, two, three blue blankets warm my darling.

Ten, twenty, thirty red kisses send him home.
I’m beginning to wonder if love’s just a blunder.

Split moon, preacher, of an evening, in a mist.
My coat, bruise-purple, is a visible ruse.

Spruce tree, vagrant, where do you list?

Well, You Needn’t Poem

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