Well I waited and waited
and waited and still he never
nerved up to asking—so, 
during a conversation,
I said, “After we're married”
etcetera

and his shoulders
sighed with relief, his eyes
were sunlight breaking through clouds
while I said to myself
“Oh, Billy,
of course I will.”
                        

Standing across from the State House
every day, you flick

a small American flag
as if it were a whip

and shout venom about homosexuals,
millionaire athletes, meter maids,

dog owners, foreign cars,
cancer-causing Asian food.

Lean and hot as hate,
you need no hat or coat

while the words from your blue-veined lips 
harangue the air

or the startled drivers paused 
at the light or walkers who quickly

veer away from you. I, too,
always hurry by—

but silently offer you my thanks 
for reminding me 

even our daily world's sunniest noon
includes not only

cars whose engines won't start
and computers down for a day

but madness.