The way I'm compelled to dismantle, to bare the walls 
beneath the muddle, warmed by the exertion, 
like the two men in orange coveralls I'm watching 
from the vacant Via station, hours until my train, 
-30 outside, as they tear down scaffolds. I imagine 
their pliant male strength, stately steel singing as it 
tumbles, how they shout in the gale. I'm head-phoned 
and goose-downed, shivering even indoors. Behind me, 
a twenty-year marriage discomposed, sustained this long 
only by self-deception. Ahead, the friendships I'm 
dieseling toward have drifted, affections as ...

Related newspaper, magazine, and journal articles:

;

See all results. Or, try our Advanced Search.

We're searching over:

• 60 million articles
• 3,500 publications