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Sport 30: Peter Black-Real Fiction

James McNaughton — Deposits

page 38

James McNaughton


A summer deposit:
note the track marks
on the arms of the tellers.
Hear a conch
blown in the Great Safe
where upper management dance
in a ring, naked
but for animal masks.

You were born unlucky,
a beige limousine
idles in your mind.
Of all the peasants in the world
you remember only a girl
alone on a mountain
selling wild flowers,
her black eyes, her sticky hands.