This is Such a Simple Poem

I don’t think that anyone should read it.
(Well, it’s okay if Ben and Maurice
Read it and also
Jess.) In a way, it doesn’t deserve
To be read by many because of
Its artlessness. In that sense,
It’s like a woman getting dressed
For work, or a woman driving
To work or a woman in her cubicle
Looking at the drawings her toddler
Made that are scotch-taped
To the wall. She has taken a break
From whatever it is that she does
Over and over. And her child that will
Replace her—now you see him
Doing what she’s doing
Over and over except
Now the world is more
Crowded and people
Are looking for clean water
And people are building people
Over and over other
People pretending that
they are machines that can be
stopped by pulling a lever
And then the cells keep moving
Into position like right now is the
Exact moment that those cells
In the far corner of the
Cubicle are becoming an arm
And then a kidney or eyelash
Now falling from the woman
Into her can of Diet Dr. Pepper
That tastes lifeless and remote,
Like watery eggs, like what one
Would imagine the prehistoric
Seas tasted like before love.