we live, “evil-averse”
what we call our careless now,
impoverished, we improvise
wealth, we laugh, for
luckily, we lack for naught,
our cup of morning norming
not numbing entirely, tenderly
we embrace, unembarrassed
as we grin goodbye,
bid to business a brisk hello
for the day, relish these riches
for we guess how quite quietly, quickly
they wash away
in the wave’s lightest flick
against the cliffs,
at night we clink our coupes
importune fortune
for more time, our tines
poised above a pile of peas
whose small cannonball stacks
could at any point collapse like the apse
of this frail frame of boards,
this elemental, skeletal, as-yet
merely studded-in cathedral