How many times!
How many times! this doorbell
smelling your sweat must know
nothing’s changed and the dry sleep
through the night –the button
has forgotten how, curls up
with someone who isn’t there
though this all-at-once-familiar nudge
can’t keep you away, outside
it’s still rain and darkness
always some touch pressing down
a somewhere note, half embraced
half pounded, by itself heads into
the constant fear it’s her name
that falls from the night sky
with no help in remembering
–for years! you don’t first knock
sure this door will bring it down
leave only the earthquake and walls.
About Simon Perchik
A former Ray’s Road Review contributor, Simon Perchik is an attorney whose poems have appeared in Partisan Review, The Nation, Poetry, Osiris, The New Yorker, and elsewhere. His most recent collection is Almost Rain, published by River Otter Press (2013). For more information, including free e-books, his essay titled “Magic, Illusion and Other Realities,” please visit his website at www.simonperchik.com.