a pork pie
a corn dog
A green blade
dryer summer Hay
Watering a new asphalt street
Pony and tony walk on the sidewalk by Main Street in this 85 year old, 3,000 person town.
What do you know? Another 4th of July passes us by. tony plays a sax at night. Remilda sweeps and washes the floors of the 1000 square foot mostly brown rented house. Pony plays on the short curved street called Freemont.
The sunburnt mayor of your town parades his tux and tophat past the old pharmacy soda shop.
No one leaves before noon or December 31st.
The greenest tree leaves shine like hubric stars, waning for attention and our undying precise nowhereness, believing everything because
We feel real, 10 items of clothing on our person
Reds, blues, pinks, deads, whites, scaries, and forget-me purplez.
The dean of college age girls who deign and feign bagging groceries,
Ham. Tuna. Rice. Rolls. Steak. Ketchup. Paper towels.
And varicose red vines
Dear Doctor
45 dollars an hour
The soup kid dies
The Asian population of 45 million
The 6 thousand mile border
tony and Pony walk to the corner store
Get an 8 ounce black coffee in a paper cup
And a half pound brick of cheddar
And walk back to the yellow light
Bulbs and rooms and beds and the warmest great aunt quilts
70 yards to the top of the graveyard
70 years and an astronomer's obituary
Deal a label
Goodnight to Forever
I knew they were all of us
The End
No comments:
Post a Comment