a reputation for calm
three times in my life. i have counted.people call me calm. i let them. the anger does not leave. it goes down,finds a room in me it likes,and pays no rent. the first time i was telling a friendhow a love was ending, and my voice climbed,not at her, only in front of her,and she stopped me and said that in all the yearsshe had never heard that sound from me.not for a long while. never. the second time was at the womani would later write a poem aboutand take the sharpest facts out of. the third i cannot recover.i know the shape of it and not the room.something in me filed it and kept the receipt. that is the whole tally.and in between the three,i have made a house cold for a weekwithout one unkind word in it,and sat in the cold with them,and called it keeping the peace. — tachi
next in the long tellings this, that, and the other thing. 