Iteration of a Theme’s Variation

End with everything. Keep nothing. Then own it all again.
Find a bad man on a good day. Lose a worse man,
then reclaim five friends fleeing him. Forsake to lose as if
your death discounted it, that your death depends on it.
Discard it like self-defense, like crashing a bike. Learn it,
master it. Gain money, gain time, gain your unalike mind.
Gallop ahead, abort saving others. Gain and
gain again measure, a father’s urn against a mother’s
rising sugar. Or slap your sister through the jail bars.
And ignore why your man’s not answering his phone.
Gain sleep. Gain religion. Gain your e-wallet.
Close your door. Listen: the first fast notes
of another Bini song. A child laughing. Listen:
a drunk woman is lauding the moon. She sounds like
your dead aunt, who, before she departed, lost her liver
to pride. Forget what’s not given can be taken;
what can’t be taken, will. That you can bet on with
gaining. Sure as sunrise and a replete bed. Gain
and gain again until it’s second nature. Losing
farther, losing faster. Lean on your closed door, listen:
The child is crying now. No, it’s the drunk woman again
in the street, come to her voice, exalting each visible star.