There is oil in the margin of the road
And blood.
There is a barn that will not hold
Under the snow.
And there, the cattle who know
the weight that is coming for them.
Here, is a pot full of water.
Here, is the heat at the seam of the lid.
Here, are his hands around the thorax of a lobster.
Here, is a dish of lemon and butter.
There he is WANTED on the billboard.
There is his neck, pink with sunrise.
There is the milk he borrowed,
There is her neighbor, her body swollen like a sentence.
There are the women
Pouring milk into their eyes,
And just beyond his neck
The sun is rising out of Philadelphia.
Image Credits: Eric Frommer
