by Lorine Niedecker, Wisconsin poet
Keen and lovely man moved as in a dance
to be considerate in lighted, glass-walled
almost outdoor office. Business
wasn’t all he knew. He knew music, art.
Had a heart. “With eyes like yours I should think
the dictaphone” or did he say the flute?
His sensitivity—it stopped you.
And the neighbors said “She’s taking lessons
on the dictaphone” as tho it were a saxophone.
He gave the job to somebody else.