Rob Halpern

      On the specter of higher wages Who can explain this sudden jubilation a swing Inside the moon’s dark mood a grave from which We return at dawn so lost inside extraction -’s deal with the dead to shed tender coins my Words attach to arcade nerve a pissed elation each Emotion an adjunct to trade whose algorithms Replace my too excitable body the way machines Once replaced my dad like quant strategies they pop The flesh of surplus hands as inventory annuls night -’s predations the darkness streaming bounty’s blight I barely note the latex fibers &…