Look at her, what she is, plain, female and young.

During prayers look. Her offertory is an upstate girlhood.

The ritual is of her Monday's re-dedication to her job.

She despite headcolds is selfless, loyal to the Club.

But recessional flows her, shuffling alone together

Toward panic. Whether

After the store windows, slow, traffic lights, slow,

To pick up the paper and some sandwiches to go. Or

Eat downtown, or eat and the movies, or eat and call

Someone. All people are couples. The cabs are all full.

Father why did you die? Tell me what to do, father.

I have no face either.

So comes to the counter with a tray, undone, intent.

She chooses carefully, having the croquettes, the salad,

Adultery, to choose from, with or without coffee black,

Or with a convent or suicide. What feast will she take?

Look at her, and think, not thinking of her, of other

Suppler girls you'd rather.

She has, you have no choice in this Sunday world

God put together of gulls Shakespeare single rooms music

And too many girls no one will ever look at and choose.

You can go back where you came from. She will use

This holiday somehow, and moves on in the line, another

Way of being together.