May I say that when you’re gone
I get to work.
I got to work
just then.
Back then,
the second you were done,
were done with me,
done using me,
your page.
Your page
pressed on alone and when
your back was turned
on it it turned
and look:
you’re back,
having some second crack
at anything
while nothing
watches.
Which is
all it’s all about.
And which is me.
Watch me
when you’re done.
You’re done.
Blank Page Gets to Work
Glyn Maxwell
Glyn Maxwell’s recent books of poetry include Pluto and One Thousand Nights and Counting: Selected Poems. He lived in Massachusetts and New York between 1995 and 2006, and was poetry editor at the New Republic from 2002 to 2007. He now lives in London and teaches at The Poetry School.