Adrienne Rich — Ever Again

Mockingbird shouts Escape! Escape! and would I could I’d fly, drive back to that house up the long hill between queen anne’s lace and common daisyface shoulder open stuck door run springwater from kitchen tap drench tongue palate and throat throw window sashes up screens down breathe in mown grass pine-needle heat manure, lilac unpack brown sacks from the store: ground meat, buns, tomatoes, one big onion, milk and orange juice iceberg lettuce, ranch dressing potato chips, dill pickles the Caledonian-Record Portuguese rosé in round-hipped flask open the box of newspapers by the stove reread: (Vietnam Vietnam) Set again on the table the Olivetti, the stack of rough yellow typing paper mark the the crashed instant of one summer’s mosquito on a bedroom door voices of boys outside proclaiming twilight and hunger Pour iced vodka into a shotglass get food on the table sitting with those wild heads over hamburgers, fireflies, music staying up late with the typewriter falling asleep with the dead