p
o
e
m
s

its warm bodice and intricate lace

tells nothing of its past

which I know

from a black and white sign

hung on an outlet rack.

“smoke damaged garments, price reduced.”

a bubbly clerk,

“from a building fire in the L.A. riots;

they smell fine.”

“much sweeter than perfume.” a value.

ravishing.

all gussied up in near-looted cloth,

worn resistance.

like donning a slab of the Berlin Wall

with frills attached.

and that is why I have written this

across the breast of your treasure.

and see within its weave

a monochrome of politics,

you, and a burning riot on your back.

You Might Also Enjoy

No Knowing

Jennifer Nelson

“That a really accurate calculation or estimate may not exist, that the procedure is pure guess-work, or simply traditional. . .

poems

Halftime

Gaston F. de Bearn

Tuck finished his soup and salad one Sunday afternoon. His wife left to play tennis at a posh club downtown.

stories

Baffler Newsletter

New email subscribers receive a free copy of our current issue.

Further Reading

Heads Up: We recently updated our privacy policy to clarify how and why we collect personal data. By using our site, you acknowledge that you have read and understand this policy.