I am in a common despair. So in order for me to have hope, it is crucial to stack fifty pounds of books on the left-hand side of my bed. I cover him tightly with my warmest woolen blankets. This boyfriend is named Shiver. He is best left alone to his thoughts. But one night, I will accidentally roll into him. Heíll fall on me with such grace and with the acceleration of all of history.
About this poem:
"I was thinking of loneliness, the writerís life, and the sexiness of literature. 'Shiver' was the funniest name I could decide upon for a pile of books wrapped in a wool blanket. Do you ever fall asleep with a book or two beside you? Think of duality, of where the mind goes, how quickly it can go there, and the suggestiveness of the word 'acceleration.' The word 'hope' is defined as a cherished desire with anticipation. Hopes are accelerative in oneís thoughts, arenít they?"