09: Money Troubles


Do you know the man who lives by the bank

who fishes for shoes and tires and the broken backs of sailors the world mourned a lifetime ago

When he hooks deep into a spine it’s a savory feast, guaranteed

“We’ve really got one this time,” he says to his fat yellow cat named Sam or sometimes Sonny or Satan

The man calls it many things, depending on the way the ocean has treated him that day

But that cat is loyal, always there, yawning at the mouse dying under its paw

So now who is the real murderer, the man asks, as he carries his catch to the stones to the stoop to the stove

Because bodies alive that have just left a room leave a dissipating buzz

And bodies that have just left the earth leave nothing

And bodies that have been reborn as new bodies bear the scars of the hooks that happened before

This is what the man thinks about as he eats by the shore

Never worried about drowning

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