Again Money Insists and Love Delights in Worth
light on nighttime grass is not love.
nor is a hand printed, brushed silk love seat.
love and light need not necessarily collude. though most mornings assure.
you love, have left the light on. have left the yard aflame. are a carport doused in gasoline.
imagined homes burn. are foreclosed on.
love, still a source of warmth, suggests.
left on the stairs a photograph of men.
7 photographs of 7 men.
a song sung in a language you no longer understand. such anger is animal.
wet fur, long blind teeth, communicative odors and medicinal promise.
the promise of ailments and their cures ringing like brassy and feral french horns.
a sonic suggestion of wealth, my love, which you will know as kindness.
| Stephanie Barber |
|
