I’m in a particular time in my life.
Still, nothing much seems to happen.
I drink coffee. I fold laundry. I try
to forget. I live, lonely as an archivist.
I read a message from a man who says
he wants to put me on a coin, meaning
he wants me in his pocket, or else, to throw
me in a well & I’m easygoing, I’m cool, I’m DL,
I’m down, I can come around to his place tonight.
I can offer him my good side, my profile in good light,
I can stretch out on a bed he made for me.
I can forget my own loneliness when I imagine his,
I can leave through the same door I walked in,
I can expand my epic & put him in it,
I can go home & add what he gives me
to my own lineage told in Latin proverbs.