by Collier Nogues
We pay attention as dues to each other.
We run out of capacity to attend as we should.
Dinner turns strange,
triangles of desire running through us
while we sit in our proper pairs.
The hotel’s chinchilla traverses the lobby in its plastic ball.
It’s soft,
it’s soft.
What else is it?
To bring attention to something
feeds one’s own need for attention.
Look at the same thing I am looking at,
look,
a favorite imperative.
Look out, a warning to study the signs.