Yet on the Whole Life Is Spiritual

For us, at least. What else
Could it be? We say that
Too often, by the way—

At least. Two words almost
Become a verbal pause
Among us, among us

At least. You know? Um, sure.
We swim. Words are swimmers.
Brains are waves. Mind the lake.

We’re in the desert now,
The place where small words crawl,
Faint from dehydration.

We need meaning. We need
The company of words,
Better words, better phrased,

To which you would be pleased
To have your memories
Attach glowing meanings,

To find us beautiful,
The way you decorate
Your house for holidays—

Decorations you made
Or purchased ready made—
Then step back to survey

Your added ornaments
And say, of the same house
That stood here yesterday,

The same old meaningless,
Homely home, delighted,
It’s so lovely! At least

For the holidays. But
We’re in a desert now,
Small words in a harsh place.