December 8, 2011 § Leave a comment
She threaded toaster cords through a large fishhook
And sewed a multitude of random seams
Joining ruby triangles and chartreuse squares
With icicle-stained, mouse-chewed, hand colored,
Mud-splattered fragments of tattered grocery bags
That she had burnished, polished, scraped, cradled,
Twirled, worn, notarized, and used as money.
She hung them from the ceiling,
Where they shone like trout scales in Byzantium.