rearrange capital
intricacies, so much
to lose here in the
dollar store,
she blondes her best
like plums blushing
in the sun
so tired in her
motherhood, and sweet
her hand is as hard
as a carpet knife
and-still-rips the sullen
stitches, upward
awkward
moments frayed
toward a ceiling who's
white heart turned to
grey years ago
one night after
a penny poker
game where time and
money where won and lost
hour after hour until
all lots had been drawn
and discarded, ending
in ribbons of dawn.
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