Five Charms in Praise of Bewilderment

1

           At first when you leave town,

the dog and I maintain dignified silence.
           After no more than two hours
I’m talking to her, after three
           she’s telling me the story of her life.
I nod my head at every word,
           encouraging her
to take all the time she needs

 

2

           I have the vice

of courting poems.
           Pathetic, I know.
I also like to watch Oprah
           if no one is around to notice.
That’s right,
           I court poems, I watch Oprah,
I even let out wordless sighs late at night,
           and call them
my spring fields ploughed, my ready earth.

 

3

           Sitting quietly at dusk, I'll admit

my life goes like this:
           dark branches
scratching the still darker window.

 

4

           “How are you?”

I ask a woman at work.
           “I have no idea,”
she replies,
           sounding pleased with herself
at the heartfeltness
           of her own bewilderment.

 

5

           We don’t know,

can’t possibly know,
           never have known,
never will know.
           We just don’t know.

Copyright © 2014 Jim Moore. This poem originally appeared in Underground: New and Selected Poems (Graywolf Press, 2014). Used with permission of the author.