Eszter Takacs


for Ariana Reines

A cliché is water
when your father
is the front lawn,
and your sister
hasn’t eaten anything
in two weeks.
They live in France,
shrouded by clouds.
There is immense
mystery behind walls
like mine. Territorial
as I might seem,
sometimes I let
in a person
or two. Gravediggers
and army boys
are the better,
the more the
better. This time
around I haven’t
eaten anything today
or this month
or this year
because maybe weight
can love itself
but I cannot.
I might love you.
You can view
me on Sunday,
or any day
because I am
real estate with
two capital letters
and two bedrooms
and two doors
and you are
from a different
country like Norway
or maybe just
from a little
south of here.
France is discouraging
these days and
I’ve told you
all about it.
Beautiful ancient things
roam the countryside.