poetry

closing up shop

closing up shop

first they lock away the luxury goods –
alpaca fine knits
the real jewelry
and fancy watches –
things that might be worth smashing for

then they put up whatever barriers
they can afford –
a web of packing tape at Sunglass Hut
metal grille at Hugo Boss
clear plastic sheeting pieced together with tape at Coolbox
cerrado

the restaurants serve up whatever’s left –
3 dishes at the TGI Fridays:
babyback ribs
chicken-fried chicken
or Bucket of Bones,
all with mashed potatoes only

but these privations are so trivial
up here in the departures lounge
placidly sailing above the ticket counter chaos
out of sight far below
jammed with people who woke this morning
to learn the window for leaving had shut
each trying desperately to pry it open
just wide enough to slip through

poetry

granite for gold

granite for gold

the church plaza:
a square of stone squares
not belonging to
this bit of earth
waste rock quarried in China
fit only for ballast
to center a ship’s
weight in water
to protect the porcelain
and airy silks above

when the ships docked in Manila
men cast the cut blocks into the shallows
their heft no longer needed
displaced by the morbid weight,
the irredeemable burden of
bar upon bar, yes,
tons, a hold’s worth,
an obscene mass
of silver and gold
stripped from the soil and peoples
of the now naked New World