Love

Martha Strom

nothing funny to say about the universe--

no love to proclaim—

nothing happy to report

no moon to moan about

but this morning there was no heat

don’t go/ maybe tonight/

it’s way too cold to swim

but the locker room is warm

like satan i argued with god

the Y is warmer than my apartment

and the bus will be warm

as its engine

in the summer time

woosh the bus came fast

zip we were at Meserole Avenue

bang i jumped in the water

the hot bath of Lourdes

i swam/i showered/

o spirits, shall i shave?

it doesn’t matter in the winter

they answered

i shaved

i blew dry my hair

the bus came!

the bus came right away!

home/ i felt the radiators--

hot! hot! hot!

maybe the yellow leaves

are not so evil/

they tell me

where there is swimming

there is love