5 Years

When I think of it sitting on the carpet there, behind me
like a fat, immense tomato,
I do not marvel at the tomato, nor its size,
nor do I hear its gurgling 5 years deep.

It isn’t worth 5 years of funds, I argue, or
5 years of food, or molecules or air-conditioning, or
wash cycles at a dollar
seventy-five-
cents-a-piece.

It’s more like a building with tenants calling themselves
on phony telephones, and writing their names falsely
on forms at the DMV:
Bruno & Hardy & Jamaica and
other names of their own silly fashioning.
I like them but I do not know them.

Spiritually, it is hard to recognize;
we have been a variety of different souls
and our combinations have
spidered and spiraled out, in,
down and about our heads.

It is not one
hunk of something
rather
it is divided and the

sum of our love
happens to arrive at that.