Enough


Thanks to all the pretty girls with their soft
eyelashes and long drips of sweat
on their backs and fifty-dollar hairdos
and handjobs and for resurrecting

the working man from his dead
place on the sofa he found so cozy

just last year after the funeral

that caused so much tenderness.
Enough to make any man question

fundamentally why not just plant yourself

and rest here the rest of your life?

He was full of infection, loud and blistering
when she took him in, and when she left

it was a fire burning in her eyes

and the infection was all hers.

by Aaron Cohen
copyright 2008
Not to Be Reprinted without Permission