Stock

 

they want measure like a bullet

uniform intentions played

and a chorus of endorsement

stamped on the wind

that follows you

 

the crowd is malted up

on tweed and brandy

like the rough backhand

of an old blues allegory

stinging eyes with sweat

 

give blood and find

the banks won't take the check

but offer cash and incur

the callow eye of guilt

for withholding

the vein

 

leave a kidney at the door

go stalk the moon

nurse clover blooms barefoot

under thatch roofs

supine in your hammock beds

steep that monkey's paw

in vinegar

and bronze gods

will do your bidding

 

little children, little ones

sleep darkly in the palms

of the city

leave the night-watch

to the bailiwick of owls

and the ragged jawbone peddler