On Portrait of Ross in L.A.

I enter the room, empty except

the pile of ‘shiny, commercially available’

candy.

The pile, smaller than yesterday

when I was here, smaller again than the

day before.

Somberly, I take a piece,

as you did, as they did, as they still do

every day.

A million piles a year,

Ross, and Isaac, and Victoria, and Eve,

but also Timothy and five more.

Preventable, for a given price,

2200 dollars, 1100 crowns, 30 days, 40 million

down to 174 pounds and counting.