you say, I’m just looking.

annoyance ghosts the salesgirl’s

practiced smile. well, call me if you want me.

looking at racks of silk dresses,

imagining them as filled with body: yours.

your body in green, tan, blue, all those yous

their gestures slightly different in each color.

I am just looking.

I came to look, not to touch,

to batten on the desire to own, but not to,

not to be disappointed in the fading,

not to take home.

***

the construction worker whistles

her pants off. phwee!

now there is the larger whistle whistling him off. where

do we go from here:

to desire to have the forbidden, to touch it,

to collect it, frame it, write your name on it.

look, look at the bird! an arc in air,

a bright swerve of red.

there is a cash register in space,

you pay, you are given the bird, the cloud, the river.

you say that only the blind are innocent.

a photograph is to have,

the experience lacquered.

here is a picture of a popsicle!

its runny slush congealed for aye

for eye. look where you’re going with that.

OK he says, I think

I am ready to check out now.