now

there are sirens at the end

of a window with the curtain

billowing with spirit, the orb

of light is a signal falling to end

the day, the air of ears is peopled

and you can’t always choose

by whom, even when you close

the house’s surfaces. you can walk

though, toward one or another person.

you can adjust the temperature

with the tools of a room. now now

is answering, you can bring your

little textures to it, now it’s drawing

away, now i’m catching it, no, maybe now.

—

Originally published in The Tiny

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Paul S Ukrainets is a poet and translator who’s lucky to live in Oakland. Their poems appear or are forthcoming in Denver Quarterly, protean, New England Review, the tiny, and elsewhere. They received their MFA from the Michener Center for Writers. Paul is committed to a free Palestine.