What did I mean that during parties I choose the sofa // like a sick cat? That when tattoos are dispensed I’m first / in line? That books full of other people’s misery // make the beach infinitely more pleasant? Stargazing is another weakness. / Too much I examine the patch of dirt where nothing grows // where buried curiosa aren’t deep enough, though in Short Answer / I’m all for dancing alone in a silken robe. Friends call. // Mostly the machine answers. Mozart makes me cry. / I kill spiders without guilt.