by Jacob Scheier

I know how I change in Kafka-esque ways,
when I get what I long for. So, I am pretty alright
with keeping our romance as is,
the exchange of letters and poems, a coffee once a year—
the subtle flirtations that may all be in my head,
or that you weave, like a web in the night,
in the minds of nearly every man you talk to.
I am okay with that, since I am in love,
most of all, with the way we fall in love.
The burial ceremony of old skins
and sound judgment. Glorious—
how unplantonist I feel at the thought of you
drying your hair. And I do not write this
with any delusions of it showing you something
you cannot already see. Poetry can’t
substitute for the absurd currency of attraction
the way someone winces when they sneeze
or stirs their coffee.
I write now from the place of good love poems,
the ones that have no intent;
seek to change nothing,
and live alongside the prayers of desperate secularists,
formed simply and only,
because there is nothing else left to do.

Jacob Scheier is a poet and journalist, originally from Toronto and currently living in New York City. His debut poetry collection, More to Keep us Warm, (ECW Press) won the 2008 Governor General’s Award. The book was also named amongst 2008’s “Best in Verse” by the Winnipeg Free Press. Jacob’s poems have appeared in several literary journals and aired on CBC radio. He is the former head editor of existere. He is also a regular contributor to Toronto’s NOW magazine, and NYC pro-
gressive newspaper, The Indypendent.