Esme Franklin '13
I neglected my business
and came to know helplessness.
Like that branch too high to cut,
beatpanting on the pane
of night’s inked bleat, I
felt myself adopt insistence.
And what stomach, lying with
sweated yearn, goes unchurned &
lets the man say to his woman
spent more money than I earned?
Wrote bad checks, wet pussy mine,
and in the end became a thief—
for this last I am a snake in the grass,
moaning at the girls’ bare ankles.