The Tradition

by Jericho Brown

I Know What I Love It comes from the earth. It is green with deceit. Sometimes what I love Shows up at three In the morning and Rushes in to turn me Upside down. Some- Times what I love just Doesn’t show up at all. It can hurt me if it Means to… because That’s what in love Means. What I love Understands itself As properly scarce. It knows I can’t need What I don’t go without. Some nights I hold My breath. I turn as in Go bad. When I die A man or a woman will Clean up the mess A body makes. They’ll Talk about gas prices And the current drought As they prepare the blue- Black cadaver that still, As the dead do, groans: I wanted what anyone With an ear wants— To be touched and Touched by a presence That has no hands.