and be close in the faraway

My neighbors are shouting away their last moments in empty rooms
that the movers spent the day clearing of the evident material
of a relationship that always sounded more martial than marital.
I think that they must have had something that looked real once
because they keep circling around each other as if they suspect
there’s still some good meat on the bones they’re chewing.
I feel like a voyeur but they’re so loud and more interesting
than the songs I was listening to, and the truth is that
I wanted to tell you about it for no reason I can think of.

It’s not that I associate you with them but that I was thinking
of you when I heard them as I was going to write you something
about the waters where Odysseus sailed seeking home;
It’s that I’d rather gossip with my galpal of lovers quarreling
than get my pretentiousness all over everything
but still, my God, Greece, and the Mediterranean!
And happy birthday to you too
and take my words with you too
and be close in the faraway

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