what a view it must have been
from up there
her apartment in the city like another
traffic sounds far below you,
machines driven by ants
a thousand thousand windows
I wonder, did you wonder how long you
could stay there and miss me?
did the planet feel different with
so far away
did you hope that it would get easier
with time or distance?
I know the answer, and it’s okay to be honest,
who could blame you for honesty?
after all, the city is
they’re all so busy and alive, aren’t
they—look at the bastards living
I’d want to be an ant too
still, someone ought to give warnings:
on a trip to Mars, bring a good book
because, my god, there’s nothing