An Amount

By on Oct 28, 2012 in Poetry

Empty white room with small white box

I think about all of those
in New York City
all housed in their
individual cubes
and I wonder
do they think about me
on the opposite coast
smaller cubes
do they imagine me
with my white walls
and white
small piece of paper
trying to re-compose you
there from nothing
less than thin air
I have been given
what used to be you
in a small box
your name misspelled on a
stick-on label
I do not know what
to make of
that you
the most wondrous
configuration of cells and thoughts
a jubilee of them
and now this
ugly obscene box
and this empty slip of paper. 


Peter Layton's poetry has appeared in Frontier, The Sheltered Poet, The 13th Warrior Review, The Plastic Tower, Wild Violet and Perspectives, among many, many others. He resides in Lakewood, California.