The New Market Eggs

 

This holy landscape was bought for a single speckled egg-

And given to you, darling baby- because of your keen green eyes

And the fact of your perfect hands.

 

The value of  this:

Chapel to keep the hilltop lonely.

Shovel in the corner like a broken man.

 basket full of Christmas Clementine’s.

And identical clouds going  East and west

Moving  on murmuring wheels.

 

Nobody need lie anymore about the cost of things.

The egg was a fair and truthful price, indeed-

Every price was there inside

And outside, every item ever made, ever seen

was possible.

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