Complaint

By Richard Mather

Every time I come over

my original sin

quickens in the veins.

My heart tells me I am guilty

for not doing more

to unburden you.

You’re so lonely,

and I’m so impatient, resentful,

never pleased to see you.

It is exhausting being

on the other end of this:

tied to a mast or a telegraph pole.

Our old life is over.

but the way you divest me

of time suggests otherwise.

This isn’t healthy.

It’s hard enough being me

without having you involved.