Chapbook Fellowships
Means of Production,
And Behind The Stove Is My Heart
and why not as easy as if these words
were tea leaves curled in a tea box, and time
were all it took, and some fire, and a kettle
for form, to give the water heat
but not the heat water, just a little
form, an old Pyrex one, say, the one
your grandfather threw out
his bubbe's copper samovar for, and then
a porcelain knockoff beauty, round and high, a little
more form, just enough
to hold a scalding and then
the dry leaves as your readied sea of boil
drowns them young again, floating open, easy
as you once were, thinking words were
