What You Want Means What You Can Afford, by Cynthia Bond

I’m sensitive to what the traffic will

allow to this convergence. If the

wrong way’s wended we’ll end it off

an off ramp slack cul-de-sac. And

see I’ve got bends beyond that belief;

I mean to jam it up to paralysis,

clip full seconds the take of a curve

and finagle a pass on the right just

past the last possible exit out the

respectable avenue. Needn’t wonder

feckless, mapless; wander reckless

through a permanent, concrete

attachment. I’m talking here foundations

way long poured, civil stuff gone native

under long duress. I’m driving a literal

conversation.

From “Best American Poetry 1994” edited by A.R. Ammons. (Simon & Schuster: $13; 275 pp.) 1994 Reprinted by permission.