“Here is the topography of false starts. Here
a whole constellation is lousy with desire.
Here what passes for love is the same
as anywhere. Here no one has said
a prayer for the stars, and here no one
comes, except to leave, except to stay
long enough to bruise.”
—Paul Guest, from “The Report from Home,” in The Resurrection of the Body and the Ruin of the World: Poems (New Issues Press, 2003)