Thursday, October 31, 2013

The Finish Line

I like to run in a loincloth, feeling
hard between my legs, younger than I am,
looking out for bear and hoping for deer,
turning at the end of the fence keeping
safe the vegetation experiment
of the global sanctuary a world
like ours requires to keep big money safe,
old money, new money, no one’s money,
so much money it peels like a ripe peach
one bill off the next until the world ends,
like Eliot, or was it Mistah Kurtz, said,
“not with a bang but with a whimper,” rot
around green edges soiled by fingerprint
tattoos: lurch of the heart, tangle of legs.

(31 October 2013: II)

copyright 2013 by Floyce Alexander

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