I think my problem is -

Spent a stolen hour in the poetry section of the bookstore this weekend, far away from paper-grading. New find: Leslie Harrison's book of poems Displacement. Still pondering this one..

"I think my problem is - "

that I want to live on earth as I do
in my head. Days when I have
no skin and the exchange rages
until, like mist rising from a lake,
the boundaries grow indistinct
in a haze of molecular fire.

And those days I lean
like paintings gilt-framed in language
against the walls of all the days
I cannot find a hammer, hanger, ruler.
And it does not matter -
the walls are all stone and may not be adorned.