Once you've sold your love
you see the sweethearts' sunset
as chemicals bleeding through an ulcer in the sky
when they go out for a dinner
you hear the animals in cellophane
screaming in the supermarket aisles
even your heart, your kidney and your lungs
have lost their elegant purpose
they become commodities for paying bills
just in case you lose all other means
and the men, old ones or young,
plumbers, poets, lawyers and fathers
poker players, fishermen, social workers, killers
they wander through the door like minnows in a net
cocks in a barrel, harvested for cash
bellies on a hide-a-bed
once you've sold your love
