Poetry Index Patience to let an eight-year girl play with your freshly-washed hair and show you her spotty- dotty pencils to endure the deaf droning of a man whose convictions convict you to the hell of his faith to shake away with the toss of your head the ringing- stinging stab of jealousy over a lover you'd rather have forgotten anyway to forgive the fenceless frustration that can only be directed most pointedly at the person who is yourself Feedback