My Life At Home During Banking Hours

For a solid month I tried
to think of something new to say about rivers
I called the newspaper to find out
how many horses were left on earth,
and numbly watched mosquitos swarm
over a pile of high-heeled shoes
while my colleagues hunted in the corners.

At least I was not in the line of work
that had me spending most of my day
avoiding God. My desk held painfully
complicated sufaces filled with shadow cassettes,
black bear theory and drinking water.

There was the sadness in a name like Jesse Winchester
and the wind howling
on the answering machine when I returned home
from daydreaming in a margarita shop.

All the blessings and counter-blessings
that move my mind like FM waves
from a butter churn, and granted me the sight
of parallel collies standing on a hilltop

And the rain falling on the United States
while it wonders
'What is the United States?'

I used to sing a song that went
'No more Springs, no more Summers, no more Falls'
I believed I was nearing the morning when
nettles would pour from the shower head.
When I would be ripped out of the world for re-casting
of blues and plastic.

I believed that I would finally break
where I had been bent,
that I would lose the game inside the game
But that has not happened,
And now I don't expect it ever will.

(David Berman)