Cathy Barber Slouch The boy has a slouch that shows thought. His indifference, considered. He has his own language and it all says fuck you in hushed tones, minnow grunts. A hull of conversation. Peace comes to us all, boy. In Mason jars on basement shelves. So many of us happy in this world. Others see only hairline cracks in the foundation behind glass, tomatoes and beans. We wish you peace, boy, and soon. So soon. |