i found an old rock in the dry dirt outside the door of my motel room it was a triangle with soft rounded edges and a split down the middle of one corner it was darker than english moss green like the soft frills of a peacock s plume i waited for you but i never told you where i was it was you who taught me how to write these kinds of equations i waited on the steps for you and i hid in the bushes whenever a car pulled into the parking lot you taught me how to listen to these distant stations distant stations i saw the sky break i threw a rock at a crow who was playing in the mulch of some rosebushes by the motel office missed him by a good yard or two i sang old songs from nowhere los angeles albuquerque i said a small prayer for the poor and the naked and the hungry and i prayed real hard for you  i waited for you but i never told you where i was it was you who taught me how to write this kind of equation i waited on the steps for you and i hid in the bushes whenever i saw a car pull into the parking lot you taught me how to listen to these distant stations distant stations