John Lazear Okrent: “This Morning”

I pulled a pair of my wife’s underwear

from our dog’s ass. Yes,

a number of my days have begun like this.

It is early. The city is soft. The sky

looks like sugar-water.

All the east-facing windows catch fire.

In their secrets, people are waking

cotton-mouthed and empty-

handed and reaching.

Each day begins with an erection—

I mean, each day begins with a question

and the ten thousand things,

each one a suggestion

of another, uncounted thing.

Surface from sleep with the sunken treasure

of breath, call it yours.

The sidewalk braces for the heat

which will come and lay its dogsbody down.

I rise early because I am my brother’s keeper

as well as my dog’s.