Author: [[Nick Roberts]]
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# Performance notes
*Ives' Unanswered Question, mysterious, metaphysical distress*
# Mutability
I, not a boy playing jacks for a gentleman’s cane
or the cane of a rake gloved in his sedan chair,
but I, an old horse long in the snout
flat like a nail in a lamp-room floor.
Every year—the moment—how to hold it down
as steady and as sturdy as that nailhead?
I always think the days will be somehow changed
or cease to have a spot on the calendar at all.
As many frowns as I can send, my love,
to help and cure your nausea and my back.
I wouldn’t freeze the assets that you hold
in my pianoteeth, the bruise on my right side,
or the pretty musicians quickly shuffling
out of town and into the fireplace.