The borderlands or a cup
of coffee along the edge

of Missouri and we’ll
knock down a tree today

or tomorrow and name
the space where it used

to stand hollow. We could
use some clouds

in the sky for a minute
or two. It’s likely

that spacing out
atmospheric pressure

is a waste of time
and a waste of time suits

today with stripes
and loafers, a wistful

sifting of snow through
your fingers, never mind

your hand going numb,
the dog refusing to go outside.

*

Adam Clay is the author of A Hotel Lobby at the Edge of the World (Milkweed Editions, 2012) and The Wash (Parlor Press, 2006). A third book of poems, Stranger, is forthcoming from Milkweed Editions. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Boston Review, Ploughshares, Denver Quarterly, Iowa Review, New Orleans Review, and elsewhere. He co-edits TYPO Magazine and lives in Kentucky.