Even Because

Because it all just breaks apart, and the pieces scatter and
         rearrange without much fanfare or notice.

Because you can't and don't remember the step that kicked up
         dust and left this planet—you'd give up even more now.

Because the body itself—the heart's

not dead but deeper, wrapped up in curtains, a different color,
         among the railings and the pigeons, the rooftops and walls—

for all you know it's a question of bread

or beer.

Because even love

returns. The city's all brightness

and shadow, deckle-edged, bluer than air—there's no help
         anywhere—you no longer know how to listen.

And love says, love—midnight to midnight,

already ablaze. And the boulevard—wide-open. And the well-
         stocked crowdless market, and a lone taxi blears.

Even happiness—the way anger's come back to roost again.
         And joy, though joy's not in the ear or the eye. On this walk

the gulls hover offshore and the islands are speckled with fire.

Even love, even because.

Copyright © 2002 Ralph Angel All rights reserved
from Twice Removed
"Even Because" is reprinted from Twice Removed by Ralph Angel, published by Sarabande Books, Inc. ©2001 by Ralph Angel.
Reprinted by permission of Sarabande Books and the author.