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Why hide them?
from The Caprices, after Goya’s Los Caprichos
To avarice pocketing a pouch sack.
To treasuries buried under numerals.
Money disappears into haircracks
like a lizard scuttling into a wall.
Old man, face wracked by the sea,
buried under this Great Depression.
Living alack, what’s owed is illusory.
The banker smirks like a sovereign.
James Byrne's most recent poetry collections are Everything that is Broken Up Dances (Tupelo, 2015) and White Coins (Arc, 2015). He teaches poetry and poetics at Edge Hill University.
Well Versed is edited by Jody Porter (wveditor@gmail.com)
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