I'm thinking of moving to Keats Street
in Winthrop. Because I love the idea
more than the thing. I don't love Winthrop,
which is too close to the airport. And I don't
love moving, which is stressful and derailing.
I love Keats, though. And I could take the train
to work from Revere. And I love the idea
of writing a poem on the train about my
derailing move to Keats Street in Winthrop
near Revere, the conceit of the UHaul
with its mouth open and the long metal tongue
of the ramp sticking out in the driveway,
a table and chairs on the sidewalk, boxes
and boxes of books, a reading lamp, the lowflying
planes arriving and arriving and a few
books spilling thunderously onto the lawn