“Yonder, a Rental” [by Anna Maria Hong}

Time to howl at the celestial sphere,

that full frontal silver dollar, the very

paintball of pallor and elemental other.

It’s all or nada as noonnight’s empanada

discloses her pretty quarter, the priest’s collar

hung high on the hook of evening’s fluent

wall. Hung like a juror bent on acquittal

who can’t stall any longer, you’re a cobbler

hawking copper coins in an Oriental

bazaar. The Sultan’s power went horizontal

long, long ago. It’s fine to be sentimental,

though there’s no need to bother. Grab a handful

of shine like a disc of doll hair, a dollop of Neufchâtel,

                                                           valor and force, vital—

from Ecotone

       

Related Stories

 

Go to Source
Author: The Best American Poetry