Anticipated Stranger,

--John Ashbery

the bruise will stop by later.

For now, the pain pauses in its round,

notes the time of day, the patient’s temperature,

leaves a memo for the surrogate: What the hell

did you think you were doing? I mean . . .

Oh well, less said the better, they all say.

I’ll post this at the desk.

God will find the pattern and break it.