Seasonal Dress

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In the West they are shooting

wolves again, threading them

to the ground with bullets,

then picking them up again,

admiring them for their coats.

It is Fashion Week in New York again,

spring coming six months early

under runway tents where loose hems

of dresses brush against the steps again

& the models rush to fit.

Manhattan photographers shoot.

Montana hunters shoot. Little

escapes the shots, & everyone is excited

for their new collections.

Collecting water, a jar on a hill in the rain becomes a cistern.

Collecting coins through the day, a pocket becomes a bank.

The earth collects the dead, & so becomes a grave,

& everyone is excited for how quickly it ends.

The jeers turn shrill. Arousal is never enough.