POSSESSION

Anton Chekhov, that good doctor,

says, "Once a man is possessed

by an idea, there's no doing anything with him."

A teacher who cares nothing

for his students keeps his college diploma

in a gilt frame that sets it off

splendidly.

A grandmother has spent her savings

on a famous toy: brightly painted cars

that fly through the air

on wires. Her grandson examines it,

then asks to go and play outside.

A girl, long brilliant

hair, runs fast as she can

through the streets

to her girlfriend's house.

"We made love! He loves me!

And now I know how beautiful

it all is."

A winter night, flames

move inside the grate. He holds her

in his arms; she is thinking

about the price of scallions.

Finally, a man can buy

the jacket he's always prized.

Right away, he notices

a loose thread, knows he'll never find

the courage to pull it.

"How can you laugh at little things?"

a woman asks. "Our baby's

gone, and my life's gone, too."

Soon the lost baby is more precious

than the one that was, than anything.

A woman has fallen in love

with a man at her office. He seems

distracted, troubled-it must be

he feels the same. One day he asks

to speak with her in private.

"Excuse me, but this perfume

You're always wearing-it seems

to hurt my sinuses."

The lonely have much in their minds

to talk about.

Every person's guilty

of spring and spring's ending.

A wish is all there is,

long payment for something happy.

It's easier to die

than to remember.