From Ocho #11

FIRST TO WAKE

If you are first to wake,
do me a favor, turn off the alarm,
let the dog out to pee.

I would, but I’m far away now,
standing on a bridge that hovers
above a living riverbed,

speaking Latin to someone
who speaks it back. I am turning the pages
of guilty pleasure, strolling the gardens

of invincible men, kissing as many girls
as I can before interrupted by traffic.
If you are still looking for something to do

after watering the lawn,
there are breakfast sausages in the fridge,
they need cooking or they’ll turn on us.

You could prepare them with eggs or oatmeal,
thinking all the while of the conversation we’ll have
as I make my way from the bedroom,

our comforter wrapped around my shoulders,
my stomach rumbling from the emptiness
of waking up alone. And if you haven’t already

left me for someone who wakes with you,
if you haven’t run off with one of the street men
who keep their eyes on you,

you might take a moment to turn the radio on,
something classical, or in any case,
something to soothe me back to sleep

in the event I am startled awake
by the slamming of doors.

© Chris Goodrich 2007