When I Need to Calm Down

I cover myself up,

wrapping my arms
around my body
and covering

my head to cover up

what’s in my head,

as when there isn’t anything
to conceal at the same time

there isn’t anything that’s not concealed,

I mean it’s not a documentary.

Pulling the covers over me,

as if it’s too much trouble,

lifting my head
and letting it drop down
at the same time,

covering my eyes
at the same time,

as if the calmness is a blindfold,

at the same time covering my mouth,

as if the calmness is a silent auction,

honestly I’m just as calm
as anybody else,

just about the calmest person I know,

I think it’s soothing.

Not lifting the covers
to look under them

or peeking inside,

not even moving
around under the covers,

of course there are times when you tell yourself to calm down
when you don’t really mean it,

is it too much trouble?

When I’m calm I take
out my needles

and knit a quiet scarf,

not even a peep,

it’s kind of soothing.

Wrapping my throat
and pushing my hair
over my face

to improve the coverage,

pulling up the covers
and not letting anything out,

like the cover of a book

you don’t even know
by the cover.

I Don’t Know How Many Times I’ve Been Around the Block

of course it’s a stress test,
I’m taking a couple
of aspirins first,

putting down my toes
when I lift my heels,

as if I’m walking on one foot,

I’m not proud of my block
I’m not saying
it’s a comfortable block,

I’m not even thinking about my block,
as when you’re walking
on one of those thick carpets

and you don’t even feel your footsteps,

I mean there are so many things
we don’t know how to deal with

it isn’t a good example.

Not raising my hands

or reaching for anything
I’m not even holding onto,

honestly it’s disturbing when people

reach for more of what

they already have enough of,

this is one of the most disturbing ideas,

although for the most part it’s not ideas that are disturbing
but people with ideas

if we’re being completely honest with ourselves,

I mean people are a problem
when you’re close to people you need
to protect yourself from,

one problem is there’s nobody
to replace them,

if we’re being completely honest with ourselves,

honestly the only way
to protect yourself from
people you’re close to

is to move away from them—

I don’t even know how many times I’ve been around the block,

I’m not even lifting my hands,

it’s not a roadblock:

when it’s especially disturbing
I take my dog with me
around the block,

as long as she’s with me
I’m lifting up my head

and keeping my head up,

I call my dog Blockhead when she helps me
get my head around the block.

Standing on the Edge I’m Not Inconstant,

Not sliding onto one side or the other
or leaning one way
or the other,

although nothing is preventing me:

centered between my shoulders
like a zipper zipping up:

it could go either way,

like an anchor that adds to my unsteadiness,

I mean a person’s innocence needs to be disproved.

To be honest I’m not even concerned

about the accuracy of the edge,

sometimes I think it’s the kind of confidential edge
I don’t even know anything about

or one of those temporary pop-up edges
that edges away:

holding onto the edge

like a piece of fabric you rub
between your thumb and first finger

to see what it feels like,

is it any consolation?

Not renovating the edge
or remodeling the edge,

or stepping over the edge,

although nothing is preventing me:

personally I think it’s the kind of edge you stand on
when you don’t know anything
about the rest of your life,
okay?

Holding on with one hand
and lifting the other straight up in the air,

as if I’m reaching for something

I’m not even aware of,

not hiding behind the edge
or straightening out the edge,

or stepping on the cracks
which is something I’ve always never done

in my whole life.

When We Turn Around It’s Not the End of the World

When you turn away

I turn away at the same time,

like a form of displacement,
not even taking turns,

I actually think it’s important for people not to be unhappy
at the same time they’re not happy—

okay it doesn’t matter if we’re face to face
or even if we’re turning the same way,

either way

it’s not the end of the world.

Opening my mouth

to make it easier on my lips,

I mean everybody wants to be needed,
like a book that opens to the place
where you stop reading,

do you need me?

Do you need anything about me?

When I turn around
there’s space for my retrospective,

and some space to reach into,

if it’s not the end of the world

I’m not even saying so long,

when you turn away
it doesn’t matter which way you’re facing,

not even turning the other way

like a kind of reciprocity—

I’m opening my mouth
and leaving my lips alone,

if it’s not the end of the world

is it the end of something else?

Keeping my hands behind my back,

as when you’re holding onto something
for as long as it takes
to let go:

I actually think it’s important for people not to be unhappy
when they’re not happy,

turning without backing up
or backing off,

it’s the kind of displacement

that makes you want to host something.