The Black Napkin Volume 1 Issue 4 | Page 38

32

Private Jets

swarm the moon.

Music plays in the distance.

My sweetheart says there is nothing

that the rich can’t have

if they want it.

Tonight, one of them has closed

a deal or has been acquitted

of rape.

When we go to bed,

their fireworks make loving

each other impossible.

1,800 M., 2016

by Emily Moore