"Hotels," C.D. Wright: a reading for a snowy January

Hotels

In the semidark we take everything off,
love standing, inaudible; then we crawl into bed.
You sleep with your head balled up in its dreams,
I get up and sit in the chair with a warm beer,
the lamp off. Looking down on a forested town
in a snowfall I feel like a novel — dense
and vivid, uncertain of the end — watching
the bundled outlines of another woman another man
hurrying toward the theater’s blue tubes of light.

(Photo: "New York Times Square, 1904." From the wood s lot website. C.D. Wright's poetry is featured in the January 2011 first issue of eveningwillcome, a monthly journal of poetics.)