USURY

The apples and their orchards stay loathing him and his toil.

Falling off without blushing with the exact cheeky awkwardness

Commemorated in vivid red,

Ripening up on the ruptures of the underlying aged concrete.

The man's woman rants all day and night,

The foliage turned into a ransom of a job.

Daring demands, now it is.

The morning sunset with obligatory suavity,

Bright betwixt the daylight.

The smell of rice began scavenging far from the wife’s hands,

And his only son’s perpetuating eyes tormented

By more men longing for his father’s leftovers,

Silencing usury in exchange was no more than enough to

Save his dignity with ‘interest’.

At least the torn down pockets did not mind the difference -

The man did with manly reverence.