What I See When I Look For You (Redux)

Just Punch The Clock

A second pass at this poem. I have until Tuesday to get it right. Please, let me know what you think in the comments. It would be incredibly helpful and I’d be enormously grateful.

What I See When I Look For You

Too many other people,
not enough you
in this museum,
lollygagging at my pregnant grief,
slowing down,
like white van man at first flush of spring flesh,
speeding off,
tongues flapping in the wind.
But each cosy lament, each tortured eulogy,
is a perverse Oulipo experiment run by charlatans,
blocking out the gaps between where you are and where you are and where you are,
wherein lies the truth, dark and glutinous.

That is:

your trainers,
dangling in the tree above the pond,
still,
spinning,
like indecisive radar.

Captain America,
face down in the cat litter,
covered in:
pollen
hair
hair
fibres
soil
burnt meteorite particles (citation needed)

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