Twice, like plants left in her care,
they die. Now what she’s holding is
as large as both husbands’,
the hand of her dying son.
A box of old toys falls from
a shelf, exploding with motes
as fine as an organ grinder grinds
his organs, with her on his shoulder.
Save your penny. The way Christ
took away law to postulate love as a guide
is the scaffold released and her
swinging. Love? The monkey won’t dance.