Come Out of It 

Now look at the knots you knead between 

the next instant and its spinoffs, how they simmer 

soup behind your forehead. You are hooked 

to poke-fingered what-thens. So certain of them. 

You know every crisp moment surprises, yet 

there goes your breathing all thin again. 

Remember how firm you were in a useless love 

so stubborn you put “marry her” on your life list? 

Thought you were visualizing an affirmation, but 

drove your breakdown instead. Notice how you pause 

writing because look, a cardinal pair out the window, 

bobbing above a neighbor’s branch tangles. 

Say goodbye to your snags. All your minutes 

till this don’t take you into the next one, even. 

Now go outside: the new tree wants fresh compost.