This is a conversation for an August day,
On foot, on pavement, from this place to that,
A somnambulist pair, mummified, preserved
Of ourselves--you seem to like it best.
When the stream between us has slowed,
That will be when to say what is what.
The words live in the roof of your mouth--
Big Man, Well Read
Fat, undetected--a grub in the earth, wanting
Pardon of some unforgiven act. Content
Swallows whole the meal, belches back
The forceful pulsing of his jaw, content
His tongue in the affect of desire
That, long sought, does not quite come--the day
To slake, no tilt at virtue. Mere harm.
Carefully marks his place, and
Greg Teran has studied poetry with Stephen Tapscott and Lucie Brock-Broido, served four years in the military, and graduated from Harvard Law School in 1999. He lives in Acton, Massachusetts.