The first question is not howto accept the premise that Iam not the subject of this day—its focus, protagonist, star—but how to verify it. Mostevidence suggests the opposite:everything radiating in circlesfrom my head, for instance,centering me amidst countlessconcentric orbits, the dark sidebehind me, the bright one ahead,the hemisphere of memory meetingthe hemisphere of expectationat a line that bisects me atthe point from which I look. Yes,it is hard to explain, but I seeindications that my childrenwere born to teach me hope andfear and selflessness or aboutall the many playthings there are,and my mother died so I wouldgrow strong and sad aheadof all my losses and disappointmentsso as not to be surprisedor crestfallen, and my fatherdrank so I could walk away thenand drink so I can walk away now.It’s almost obvious there is causeand effect, logic, eventsbuddying up with their morals,like how my wife was presentedto me so I could be goodto her, and bad. Perhapsthere are other things I’ll bemeant to do, tomorrow alreadypredestined. Everywhere I walk [End Page 370] I’m at the center of each step,aligning sidewalk and sky like aspirit-level bubble and bringing alongas much of the world as matters. [End Page 371]
Craig Morgan Teicher is the author of three books, most recently To Keep Love Blurry (BOA, 2012) and the chapbook Ambivalence and Other Conundrums (Omnidawn, 2013). He works at Publishers Weekly, and his prose about poetry appears widely. He is a poetry editor for the Literary Review and lives in Brooklyn with his wife and children.