The Poems

Morning Observation No. 49

From the Summer, 2007, issue 

(No. 18)

After a night of Thin Man games (I’ll

take five more—line them up right here!),

I’ve discovered that mornings aren’t so

witty when you don’t own

a proper dressing gown and I am, in

fact, not Nora, or Myrna,

my mouth too dry for a pithy

retort, my mouth too dry

to say pithy.