I don’t believe in capitalism so I can’t write you a check. I can write you something that looks like a check. My heart hurts a little for dented cans. I bought these peaches to give them a second chance. We’re entitled as humans to one cake or one roast sliding off the plate and onto the floor. The truly starving will forgive you. I’m sorry my sorry is worthless, like being too wealthy. They say there’s so much small-scale pain in the world we can never really imagine it no matter how hard we try. They say to try hard. Progress seems slow because we read technology magazines. I switched to cookbooks and now my oven is always warming. A batch of cobblers is called an absolution.
Jeffrey Hermann’s poetry and prose has appeared in Hobart, Palette Poetry, UCity Review, trampset, JMWW, and other publications. Though less publicized, he finds his work as a father and husband to be rewarding beyond measure.