JOHNMICHAEL SIMON POETRY

Three times today

I’ve thought something

and you, a few seconds later

voiced the same thought

 

Yet when I try to

explain something

you give me one of your

uncomprehending shrugs

 

Then when I’m not looking

you sneak up on me

pick the lock of my brain

steal my secrets

 

And there are still occasions

(although more rarely now)

when we yell at each other

each from his own

door-closed window-barred

aloneness

 

Hours, or sometimes,

days later

smiling, hugging again

realizing that perhaps

we’d forgotten

to turn on the Bluetooth