Whatever we do, whether we light
strangers’ cigarettes-it may turn out
to be a detective wanting to know who is free
with a light on a lonely street nights-
or whether we turn away and get a knife
planted between our shoulders for our discourtesy;
whatever we do-whether we marry for love
and wake up to find love is a task,
or whether for convenience to find love
must be won over, or we are desperate-
whatever we do; save by dying,
and there too we are caught,
by being planted too close to our parents.
(David Ignatow)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Light Poems, Death & Dying Poems, Parents PoemsBased on Keywords: convenience, detective, discourtesy