2 December 2004 | Vol. 4, No. 4

All Temptation

by MATTHEW FRANK

The acrobacy of the worm

as it stretches itself over the mobile

allows you to become

aware of the lawn

at your feet. A muscle stretches

beyond your jawbone,

touches your wife

at her ear. She will soon hear your heart

beating her cheeks flush,

think of the baby

stretching its fingers for the bait.

Can this be controlled

by self-denial, religion,

revision? Surely,

these people

can be happy again.

Surely, the baby doesn't have to reach

for the worm. But

don't forget the sun,

its rising despite the pain in your side,

its call to the soil,

to the lawn. And then,

of course, the moon. We all have to grow.

In four short beats,

these three people

will be crying.