The Brooklyn Rail

Into the heart of things
Center of the universe
Yet I like to place things
Irregularly
Cotton pulps flutter below
And around the white edges
Measuring one and a quarter of
The circle on the top
Wildly wire mesh
Wood and paperclips
Looking for the map
Tucking
Folding
Tying
A ballerina who has recently
Converted to be a nun
In a far distant monastery
Plus [or] minus
She is dreaming of the next Valentine’s Day
Do ask her to nail down the date on
her calendar
How close do I have to stand against the wall
Before noticing her disguised monument
And slender elegance
Leaning
Resting
Torn away only to
Emphatically remind everyone at
The wedding that it is made
Manufactured in the U.S.A
She has learned how
To dance in her dream
You have told me
Plus [or] minus
For better [or] worse