White-Armed Persephone Walks Into His Van

           She stripped wisteria off the pronged

poles. Wednesday. The mistake garden

plot by the Stop-n-Shop on Grand

           where they wait. Pumping premium into her

pickup, she decides to yes the next man

who asks. Her knees

           above her kneesocks guarantee. Her

riding skirt rising as she reaches for

flowers to dress her mother’s table. When

           her daughter is an open feast. When

she leans to squeegee her windshield

and the tattooed man reaches out then

           under. His white van idles louder. When

the bird-whistles across the highway

open her in her car. The pistils

in her glove. She always knew she’d go

quietly. The hidden knives agree.