T.R. Hummer
March 2002

Gnomic with Temple and Ash Tray


While they were making love, it crossed her mind
     that she could kill him. Easily. Quickly.
He was so helpless there inside her, making
     his little moans. She could kill him

Or not, while morning gathered brilliance
     east of the factory tower. She understood
The cool clarity of that vaulted air. She loved him
     terribly, but she could do it

With the ash tray, maybe, a heavy crystal thing
     full of lipsticked ashes and cotton balls
Already stained nail polish crimson. A stroke
     behind the ear. As he kissed her shoulder

And she watched the pulse in his temple,
     an enormous neutrality came over her.
There was nothing personal in it. When he died,
     it would break her heart.

Yet she could do it now, as easily as that
     luminous little cloud beyond
The smokestack she saw out the window
     lifted its weightlessness in the light.

from Useless Virtues, LSU Press, 2001.