floating his tired head on visions of the past
(airline food settling deeply into the stomachs)
dreaming of dirty bedsheets and laundry slippers
(a thousand miles to the south of his new home)
he says: “please go away. I’m minding my own business.
(she reads over his shoulder, tasting words)
“Now and you can please depart: but please
(her eyes are glistering in the pillowlight)
“to ignore the iguana or the rhino lying senseless
(the remote lies heavy in his hand, tv blaring)
lying turgid, collapsed upon the middle of the floor.”
XIV is missing too. I traveled a lot on business when I was younger.