I want to see one of the cranes finish. Then I’ll decide.
That the boy gets his crane. I have no other wish this year and I have had years with several.
I’ll keep my Thursdays. The rest of the week can do what it likes.
Four more quarters like the last four and I’m on the far side with a balcony. Ask me then.
I’d like a Sunday with a voice in it. Here or anywhere.
One more first evening, with the boat still in it. I am not asking for the rest of the film.
They fitted the well with a reader for cards. I bring coins. Some machines shouldn’t be told everything.
The offer doesn’t expire. That is my whole future, and it suits me.
I’d like one assessment to close while I still recognize the questions.
I hope the next one signs quicker. The chain on the pen is my doing and I stand by it.
A Saturday. The long form, with the extra lines in it, and I would say the short one again afterward.
When I’m big I’ll cut my mark on the line, where the heights go. Or I’ll be a gull.
A dog. A yard the size of a table. That is the whole of it.
My knee. That is the whole of the list, and I have thought about it.
A person’s weight across my back on a Sunday morning, all of it, with the light coming up the sheets. Not a patient’s.
More dark, honestly. It’s where the sums come out.
Money. Not a philosophy about money.
I would like to be asked something I have not been asked before. Anything. I would answer it truthfully and then I would like to be asked another.
That the strips get renewed in the spring. I have not decided anything after that.
That the fold holds. I don’t examine it.
I plan to keep laughing at the wrong time.
I have kept every receipt since the plates. The twelfth is priced in tomorrow’s units, and I have not looked.
Nine words went where they went. I’m keeping the tenth for the door, whichever door.
Somebody to finish a sentence of mine. I would not correct them.
Not to improve. That is the whole of it.
Elsewhere. Just that. I’ve said it to the water so often the water expects me.
I’d like a Sunday with a voice in it. Somebody already wished that, up ahead of me. I’m wishing it again.
To be believed once without a fee.
My hour again, and the door open at three, and everyone still on the stairs, and this time somebody says my name out loud so I know whether they did.
That somebody stands for me sometime. Twelve seconds is plenty.
That nobody asks about it. It is still up there and nobody has asked.
Me, I’ll stay for the hill. Somebody has to not climb it.
The well is emptied on the last Thursday of the quarter. The coins are counted, recorded, and returned to the general account. Paper taken from the water is dried, in case it is money, and then discarded. The wishes are not recorded. They were never asked for.