byPaula Gunn Allen
Every day I get mail
addressed: Paula Brown,
I read about distinguished lectures
given before auspicious bodies,

or eye the pleas for donations
to United Fund
and notices of fascinating seminars
which propose to parse
the anatomy of God, the Government
and the Student Revolt,

and I understand that the moon which shone so deeply
in my thought has so completely become a wall
just as I dreamed it would, as a child.

(It seems prophetic from this side of the mail-stalls,
where there are no E's on the machine addressing me
but only W's.)

© 1996 Paula Gunn Allen.     From Life is a Fatal Disease.