Mar/Apr 2018 • Vol. XL No. 2 PoetryMarch 1, 2018 |

I Was Thinking

in the narrow confines of a single page perhaps even of a single life, the made-up can rival the likely, the way fantastic things can enliven and expand the possible, but it wasn't long before I realized I was sounding like a man I didn't want to be, who wanted to enlarge and accumulate, deny that the elephant he had made out of the labor of others wasn't present in the room. I was thinking we needed something like a moral GPS that would guide us past the ridiculous obstacles bound to get in the way, a travel-through-your-life self-help book that might show us how to get where we need to be. I was thinking of a story I wanted to believe—an ambivalent, midlife story, hilarious and sad— a man I knew arriving at a house he thought was forever hers and his, and finding there a good-bye note taped to the door Who then wouldn't need something to guide him through the coming days? Perhaps a story in which he was better off without her? Or a tale I'd want

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in the narrow confines of a single page perhaps even of a single life, the made-up can rival the likely, the way fantastic things can enliven and expand the possible, […]

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