IN THE CAFÉ, WANTING EARPHONES

This is where I need the earphones that magnify sound: that couple on the sofa, somewhat entangled, occasionally laughing, is talking a little too quietly for me to overhear. The help are talking, too, as they clear the noon-rush clutter. I catch one lover saying three quarters, a customer at the counter the wrong time.

like the sixties North America they all crashed into the rocks day old bagels so it’s just you

Always I want to know the business of strangers, their urgent lives nothing to do with me.

any latté cups rain. And the kittens too far to row haircut, and pink handtowels invited her to speak

I imagine they want to know my business too: who is that woman drinking coffee alone and what is she writing in that book, and why does she stop, stare out the window at the river, and why does she smile?

kept talking and talking more fish except tuna day Carol died understood the agenda expensive to fly

But on my porch, with the earphones, in the evening, in the rain, everything is simple, clear. I hear a hundred robins singing, and the peepers in the pond three-quarters of a mile down the road.