Read a poem by another poet written
on the same day:

ante up

spun lightly or with intent
flung out to the side
having exploded in a fashion
contained, denied, curtailed
so as to photograph or capture
the relation we call family

the city wheezes & the music breath
the populated high-heeled night
wallowing in its own finger
prints, bruise marks,
from the inside it's rough, brittle,
slick, quiet, slid, driven. some
things you just don't ask.