Poem with the word “Love” in it convoluted the word “Love” means nothing until held down to the ground not against its will that’s something else more closely related to war which has nothing to do with “love” and is not convoluted. Love is the oldest plate in a china cabinet. the one revered, never used. taken out occasionally carefully to dust doesn’t even get to play in the Thanksgiving game. Remembers its last bath. Adores being worshiped hates being alone. Was part of a full set given as a wedding gift to a grandmother. Got dispersed after the grandmother went to some place called Autumn Woods. death came. One plate, they say, was thrown in a kitchen fight after the grandpa got drunk and went over to the next farm to see the widow lady. made the set uneven. seven stitches, to close the cut scared grandpa’s face forever with truth. three generations later another plate, same pattern, is touched with a soft cloth. convoluted this word love. Charity The AC guy is changing a coil outside my door. He’s playin’ Tobie Keith Should a Been a Cowboy on his phone. He told me his puppy shit blood this morning. Vet said the dog needs surgery. AC guy says he hasn’t got the funds. I know he wants me to pop for his pup, wants me to give my money to his dog. I have a dog. I would pay a lot for my dog, to not shit blood, but his dog? Sort of makes me feel like God.