by Ori Fienberg

Taking turns napping counts
as a vacation under circumstance
of life and death; a bed will take us
over months of flood each night.
A good sleep is commemorated
by a special assessment, and later
come custom t shirts of our untaxed
traditions; the bottom of a drawer
is its own ark: a scented letter
more sacred than a sound investment;
we have tenements within ourselves
that testify to our crowded roots,
cousins atop cousins, and rooms
within rooms. In some circumstances
a sheet can be a wall that will never
fall, just bend with time, or fold down
to a symbol of itself. We’ve driven
demand down to a symbol of itself
stored in our wallets; we save and
redeem for fabulous prizes every
quarter, and three moons shaded
by hand or hidden in cotton will
protect a season long of longing

Ori Fienberg’s poetry will appear this year in Cimarron Review, The Dallas Review, Ploughshares, Smartish Pace, and Superstition Review, among other places. Where Babies Come From is now available from Cornerstone Press. Ori teaches poetry for Northeastern University. More writing can be found at orifienberg.com or be in touch @ArtfulHerring on Twitter.