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Loved Poem No. 1

You just walked through my dust pile,
and you didn't even smile and nod.

Or worse, you did smile or nod,
as you walked through my dust pile.
I don't know which I prefer—

You, or your ghost,
who lives near the tables
at my favorite dusty haunt.
I don't know which I prefer—

Doing all of the work,
or watching it all swept away.

Doing all of the work,
or watching you sweep it all away.

Sweeping your ghost away,
or watching you do all of the work.

I do know I prefer
to know which I prefer,
which I prefer to know,
I do.

Let's just say one, and not two,
or the other, is how I felt, and you,
you—and not me—are how I feel.

Take them both, both of them,
Take them both, take all three,
Take the ghosts, and make a little pile.

Make a little pile, with any others too,
let's build something, while I admire you,
let's build something, and then let's have you
walk right through. Will you?