POEM
Space Bar
Lined up behind the space bartender
is the meaning of it all, the vessels
marked with letters, numbers,
signs. Beyond the flats
the monitor looms, for all the world
like the world. Images and
motions, weeping women,
men in hats. I have killed
many happy hours here,
with my bare hands,
where TV passes for IV, among
the space cadets and dingbats.
Source: Poetry (March 2008).
This poem originally appeared in the March 2008 issue of Poetry.
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Heather McHugh was appointed Milliman Distinguished Writer-in-Residence at the University of . . . MORE »
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