Excerpt

I Want You to Come Now!

I want you to come now!
I want you to come now at the latest!
Bring your pocket calculator.
And your grand piano.
Bring band-aids aspirin eau de cologne and antiseptic soap
a bottle of seltzer a bottle of gin a bottle of whisky
and toothbrush mug
a bottle of Ajax and a large pack of sleeping pills a houseplant
a pizza
and a respirator.
I want you to come now!
Only you, come now at the very latest!
And take me by storm.
Turn out the lights.
And light the candelabras.
Unplug the telephone jack.
And blow up the air mattresses.
Dry my tears and try to talk some sense into me.
When the sun sinks down behind the Opera House.
And it’s time to go home.
Then you must come to me.
With your heart.
And your shotgun.
So that I never lose my temper again.
In a tastefully furnished living room.
So I never climb onto the window ledge again.
Looking a bit stupid.
With a dog rose in my hand.
So I never creep through the subways again
with an embarrassing song.
On my broken lips.
You have to come now, now at the very latest!
Because I can’t stand it otherwise.
Because it’s so damn persistent.
Because I’m just an ordinary woman.
Healthy and moderately overweight.
Somewhat domestic, helpful, and nervous.
Kind and sweet and very scared.
With general interests and an untapped literary vein.