A RESPONSE

i didn't win.

but if i did, it was some kind

of hollow victory:

maybe in some thought

of masculinity

i hoped to make something

roll down your face

so that i would feel alright

about doing the same thing so many times before.

you are not a girl;

you are a woman, not a machine

or some fragile Wordsworth's Lucy Gray;

you are more like Helen of Troy:

causing ships to sail and fires to burn

and Ireland to burn to rubble (like Yeats described) -

but machine? no.

i have to think that you are not a thing

because things cannot love.

you told me you love me -

my coffeemaker cannot say that

(as much as i sort of want it to).

you are not a microwave or an automobile -

but if you did break down, i would not think it

a victory

because then i would have to fix whatever ale'd you

and i'm no good with tools;

i'm no good with words.