Meditations in an Emergency

It is easy to be beautiful; it is difficult to appear so.
I admire you, beloved, for the trap you've set.

It's like a final chapter no one reads because the plot is over.

I've got to get out of here.

I choose a piece of shawl and my dirtiest suntans.

I'll be back, I'll re-emerge, defeated, from the valley;
you don't want me to go where you go, so I go where you don't want me to.

It's only afternoon, there's a lot ahead.
There won't be any mail downstairs.

Turning, I spit in the lock and the knob turns.