I wish I could write a poem about
a toaster, like Ray Carver would.
A toaster sitting idle on the kitchen counter
full of crumbs from old pieces of toast.
On the same counter a note,
"Goodbye, darling", in that
handwriting that he couldn't
help but recognize. And next
to the note a wine glass, lipstick
stain at the rim, a quarter sized
circle of wine still sitting in the
bottom. And next to the wine
glass, her key to the apartment.
She wouldn't be using that anymore.
She wouldn't be opening that door
again. Wouldn't be wrinkling his
sheets again; or smoking his
cigarettes. She'd have to buy her
Own from now on.
I wish I could write a poem like that.

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BRIAN MOSHER is from Boston and writes about music for two online journals: Now Wave (under the pseudonym "bmo") and The Noise (as Brian Mosher).