Tim Yu – Eden

Tim Yu


In a time of fragrant falling, love
Is something we rarely think of.  Our landlords
Are just and sentimental; they love
To visit our children’s birthdays dressed as landlords
And blow out the candles that spell out LOVE
FROM MOM.  Meanwhile, our parents’ landlords
Can’t bring themselves to love
The clogged drains, which sound like landlords’
Complaints to the board of inquiry, whose love
By decree cannot falter, despite all landlords
And all ships lost at sea.  The Love
has been repossessed by a landlord
Whose intention is to restore it with love
To the form in which it shall stand before its landlord
To be judged at last; the open portholes love
The feel of air through them, the jealous landlord
Walking the deck in his pegleg and his love
Of oranges, of a girl who does not yet know landlords
And stands leaning on crutches waiting for love.
In her dream the congress of landlords
Rises to proclaim freedom, health and love,
Abolishing all apartment buildings and landlords
And rushing out of the falling capital to make love
To their tenants.  We cannot yet imagine the landlords
Who will come to us then, full of love
And vigorous prosecution, landlords
Whose faces we know from love’s
Damp currency, famous landlords
Whose movements shall be those of women in love.

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