The spoon went in
just right,
stirred the coffee,
was removed and lay
on the saucer, silent.

The lost library
books fantasized
about where they’d end up,
not
realizing they already had.

I don’t understand anything
he says, my friend
who comes over.
When he says delighted
I am just
as sure
he means weighted down
with affliction
or affection.

He can’t have been bothered
by next year’s list of things,
places left unplanted.
The government went in.
That’s why there isn’t room.