poem index

poet

Betsy Brown

by this poet

poem
All the chairs and the long brown couch just lay 
down on the floor in a line and the thin 
curtains joined them, sort of on the side 
or fluttering down onto them and I watched 
thinking this is the kind of loneliness I 
should've known about and this is nonsense: I object. 
But the furniture line was so heavy