a little money like death

rain
just
says
one
word
over
and
over
-
I have a little money in my pocket
not enough
it smells like sweat
like meat gone bad
my little money smells like death
-
Grandchild. She’s only just new,
even crawling is yet a ways off,
and so she wins me by just being herself.
Dark hair, dark eyes, and a flash of a smile.
Here. Now. In this family.
-
james lee jobe
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to book of jobe to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.