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