WORK ETHIC

WORK ETHIC

A friend calls me from where she fasts
In long and leading pauses we speak
I do not say I’ve much to do
Smudgings to swaddle these homespun hand-casts
Nor do I say I’ll call her later
This’ll do an excuse for the week
I slip the cedar slat I chew
Under an unfinished embarrassment
I reel off quickly back bent
To getting away from here