(for my brother)
I
with a grunt of irritation
you condescend to be interrupted
and move your chair back a bit
so i can crawl
under your desk
(the one dad built special for you
now that you’re at university)
so i can dust the baseboards
as is my job
(i’ve already done the rest of your room)
i’m quiet
careful not to disturb
because it’s hard stuff, important stuff
you’re doing
(i’m still only in high school
but you’re at university now
it must be harder
you’re getting only 60s)
i turn around in the cramped space
on my hands and knees
and see your feet
i think about washing them
i think about binding them
II
the guidance counsellor pauses
then discourages
“philosophy’s a very difficult field”
and i thought
(no, not then, later)
i thought, she’s telling the kid
who has the top marks in the school
it’s too difficult?
III
it’s true
i just find it easier
besides, compared to business
philosophy is such a bird course
no, that’s a lie:
i’m smarter
and i work harder–
while you’re out with your friends
friday nights
i’m at work
because my summer job didn’t pay enough
to cover the whole year
and while you’re watching tv
i’m at work
(at ten o’clock
after six hours of lectures
and just as many of typing and filing)
i move the set
so i can crawl
into the corner
to dust the baseboards
you lean and yell in irritation
because i’m in your way
because i’m in your way
1987
from dreaming of kaleidoscopes
