Two Poems

The Soft Exchange

As soon as the prosecutors completed the trial, the witness came on his assistant. His broker was carried out. “Don’t set him there! A stand’s no place for experts!” But around his case, above his lifestyle is where the broker was killed. At night when obstruction releases justice, it was deftly abducted back to lawyers. A testimony brokered the improvement, which was then exchanged—softly. “Good night!” “Good night!” And then for the ex-brokers no one includes, the director regarded the compliance. Inventory David has asked for an inventory today, she said. They take this very hard. There are safety reasons every fifty years. These seasons are deaf, their darkness odd. The vases, vents, tin tents and desks are too shoddy for neat sins. They divide their thirteen ovens and seventy hoses.

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