i found an old rug in the dry dirt outside the door of my hotel room it was a triangle with soft rounded edges and a split down the middle of one corner it was darker than english moss green like the soft frills of a peacock's plum i waited for you but i never told you where i was it was you who taught me how to write these kind of equations i waited on the steps for you and i hid in the bushes whenever a car pulled into the parking lot you taught me how to listen to these distant stations distant stations
i saw the sky break i threw a rock at a crow who was playing in the mulch of the rose bushes by the motel office missed him by a good yard or two i sang old songs from nowhere los angles albuquerque said a small prayer for the poor and the naked and the hungry and i prayed real hard for you i waited for you but i never told you where i was it was you who taught me how to write these kind of equations i waited on the steps for you and i hid in the bushes whenever a car pulled into the parking lot you taught me how to listen to these distant stations distant stations