The heart under your heart
                  is not the one you share
so readily o full of pleasantry

THESE ARE THE THINGS WE THINK ARE BEAUTIFUL:
Flames and money with colors. Good thick paper
rubbing between the fingertips like oil.

Why did you pick this line of work at all?
I love the symmetry, the play of force,
the smooth precision of well-oiled pieces.

Marmalade will bring the devices. Keep them
damp and away from sunlight. Any sudden
shocks will set them off, or—if you’re unlucky—

Your manners much in evidence: please
pass the water jug and would you kindly
loosen the handcuffs just a tad? They pinch.

Aristocrats, they were
made to walk over,
to be proud of their scars:

What I remember most is what he did to the couple
   who sent his best pasta back to the kitchen,

His interest in blades of any cut
is purely amateur, he tells me. But

Craig Arnold’s “For a Cook” appeared in our Winter 1997 issue. Arnold, born on this day in 1967, published only two collections of poems before his presumed death in 2009, when he went missing while hiking alone on a volcanic island in Japan. —D. P. …