Love At Its Worst. (poem)

Scrawny young fox

Trotting starved

Looking sideways—

I slow the car down

Two days in a row

But I have no food.

And later when sitting on the

Tuffet between Delhi and Osaka

I think of the woman whose domain

Is the main thoroughfare.

She keeps going at a fair clip

With the red shopping cart.

I always ask, what can I do?

Is there anything you need?

But she doesn’t slow down,

Since my windows are closed

and I’m headed the other way

with a median between us.

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