Poem for the Recession

Ow, falls

The house rejects ducks
on a balance beam ALWAYS

They weren’t bribed.

The fault lies with words or commission.

I was going to retire before
a suspension came in the form of a yes
in a no that denies the Great
that comes before
hiding under a blanket with a trapped cat.

The place where that hiding is usually soft
is now not with the dollars who would
take the blanket if they existed, if I had withheld:

the confidence in that readiness to sleep meets
the being afraid that is being voted