Forms and witnesses, an entourage
that clapped their hands when the deed
was signed— A glittering handful
of pillowed coins, an heirloom;
a barn full of animals, their flanks
gleaming with fat, their eyes the eyes
of the newly subdued or led into confinement.
My dear, do you believe when I tell you
the figs were ripe to the touch and burst
out of their skins without anyone’s prodding?
Would I have reconsidered had someone spoken
other words, even given commands? Who knows
what it is we really want— something to own,
a name, a life, a self to suckle then wean?
[LAG-other-response date=”06 15 2013″ url=”https://www.vianegativa.us/2013/06/owned-2/” title=”Via Negativa: Owned”]