Roy Jacobstein

Make peace
      with the space
            you're dealt, be

a beacon
      of equanimity
            and competence,

set out
      the photographs
            of Dad, the dog, 

the day 
    you sailed
            the blue bay.

With respect
      to your voice, don't
            lower it

more than two octaves,
      though it will 
            behoove you 

to call
      your new lover
            from a private phone.
		
And instead,
      should he
            call you, say

"Mon ange,
      your eyes are
            the glowing coals
	
in the blast furnace
      that is my heart,"
            you must respond
	
coolly
      with "Yes,
            Steve, the report
	
is coming along fine
      and will be available 
            for your perusal
	
by COB today."
      Such dispassion
            has useful spill-

over: the dry cleaner 
      will give you the discount 
            even though you forgot
	
the coupon. 
      The mechanic notorious 
            for gouging

his customers
      will fear you
            know something

and not overcharge.
      Your landlord will promptly
            repair the heat pump.

And your lover,
      who may
            or may not be 

Steve, will take
      your demeanor for
            the deep still ardor

he has been meant
      to unlock all his life,
            beginning with dinner

at the little
      Turkish place
            where he will order

meze and raku
       and ask you
            "Are you always

this cool?".


Copyright © Roy Jacobstein All rights reserved

The Gettysburg Review, Autumn 2005
The Raleigh News & Observer Business Section, 2005