plays spades of gratitude for rum,
his jars, her syringe:
a genie in his world,
a wishbone in the next.
a morning when she played in the liquor cabinet
Steady, writing ‘cross her page,
outside like a gypsy-sage waitress,
Fur canines slurred her words,
Joseph in a run-down, pinstriped suit,
her mouth a broken conch.