Outside of here, my brother lost work
in the Chesapeake, and now
there is no money coming home.
Haven’t you heard the news?
There is no longer enough in the world.
Not enough oil or milk, money or bread
or labor for those of us with good bodies
and sound minds. Given that,
would you load what little you have
on a boat: stack it with carrots
and sardines and silver,
then push it, unmanned,
onto the river at night?
I didn’t think so.
Sometimes, when we’re bringing
in a girl, I catch her face before we shut
the door and she looks almost lovely:
a useless barge lit up,
bearing away on the water.
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