"The Tax Assessor."
"Money goes smiling from one man to another, a woman.
The assessor's black suit grimaces front and back
as he walks.
His mouth is a number 10 turned edgewise like a brand.
He looks only at the sides of buildings.
He looks pale.
In the garden, his shoe prints dig shallow graves.
From his groin pocket shoots a tape measure of spring steel.
His girl's statistics--
30 by 50 by 45 feet.
Our shadows cross cling like two mourners.
Why should I fear him?
He says I am worth something."
There was once a tax assessor in an audience
that I read that to.
He liked it very much.