This poem tries to describe a recurring nightmare where I catch whoever I’m with — I mean with-with or partnered to — I catch that person in the act of physically betraying me — i.e. having sex with someone else. The worst part of this is that they don’t deny or try to hide it — whoever it is (and there have been many in this role) just looks at me with dead uncaring eyes while I wail or plead or otherwise exhibit grief. This poem holds pride of position as the last piece in my as-yet-unpublished second book.   In the dream you leave me   it’s always for another, and you tell me while she sits in your lap. I’m facing your blank affectless face: you’re unbothered by my silent spastic opera- tics. In the dream (I can’t speak) the worst part is as in life pleading with the dirt. At I should say, not with, but if I could ever (I never) get further, I might in defeat relax. By giving …