Accounting
By Todd Boss
Its fine
incisors
grinding
my mother
fed my
father’s
fledgling
carpentry
concern
into her
adding
machine
as if its
hunger
could be
satisfied
costs and
savings
spooling
to our
wooden
kitchen
floor and
pooling
amounting
to nothing
a shop tool’s
shavings.
Source: Poetry (October 2012)