She Says You're Like the Child

The Nobelist, Louise Glück,

Wrote a line, fairly early

In her long, esteemed career—

I’m always moved by weakness.

Sounds like a conversation,

The way a conversation

Will involve the first-person,

The way one or more people

Involved will assess themselves

At some point, usually

Not self aggrandizingly,

Nor in outbursts of disgust,

Just putting a bit of gloss

On one’s foibles, showing them

In a sympathetic light—

A person who’s always moved

By weakness must be kindly,

Even if also timid,

Right? The way words hang loosely

In homely conversation,

More like clusters or bunches

Than like taut, laced lines of code—

I’m always moved. I’m like that.

Also, quick to shut my eyes.

That’s one way a writer goes,

Tossing a plausible catch,

Some believable patter

Into the cooler. Gut it

Later, or let wet market

Forces decide what it’s worth.

Others are more desperate.

Aware no one’s attention

Attends to their awareness,

Their conversation will turn

To a tense, tuned string—something

Humming rhythmically, risking

Even more impatience or

An unpleasant suddenness

When intentionSNAPSa string.