by Bill Yarrow
The diagnosis was peculiar, the doctors agreed,
but so was the condition. He had knot eye.
He was unable to see a piece of string, but he
could see the knot. He was unable to make out
a plank, but he could see the darkened whorl.
He was unable to see his girlfriend's discomfort,
but he saw her stomach tighten as they discussed
Thanksgiving. She wanted to get married. He was
afraid. Their bickering led to lumpy disagreements,
but he knew sooner or later they'd fall back into
each other's arms. That's the way it is with the world.
What waits for us at the end is embrace. He stared
into the large mirror in her living room and watched
as she wound her stringy arms around his skinny neck.