Parting Song
–Jill Alexander EssbaumFirstit is one day without you.Then two.And soon,our point: moot.And our solution, diluted.And our class action (if ever was)is no longer suited.Wherewith I give to looting throughthe war chest of our pastlike a wily Anne Bonnywho snatches at plunder or graft.But the wreck of that ransack,that strongbox, our splintering coffer,the claptrap bastardof the best we had to offer,is sog-soaked and clammy,empty but for sand.Like the knuckle-white cupof my urgent, ghastly handsin which nothing butthe ghost of love is held.Damn it to hell.
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