Wednesday, May 26, 2010

918. CONCLUSIONS

CONCLUSIONS
Banishment forever!
One step up from your slumdog Goddess!
Your hands can't touch what your eyes can't see.
Or can they? One step from Heaven or five steps from Hell?
Whichever direction you go, it's always something.
Or, well, anyway - it never was anything I had
to be concerned over. My cloak was never
your garment.
-
Wind in the willows, owl in the tree.
Morning arises like an unsettled marker -
brooding red, deep and orangey-dark,
on the always-dangerous highway horizon.
I watch the trucks sneak by : all their torrid
combinations of noise, leaky fluids, gear-whine
smacks and the gruesome sound of big rubber
on pavement. Sometimes, only sometimes maybe,
I wish I was deaf for an hour.
-
They said some Virgin Mary came here from
Wichita - with a guidebook and an ace bandage.
Scouring the neighborhoods for winsome young lads,
the few she could contact were already engaged.
Baseball. Apple Pie. Mom. Chevrolet.
Any of that old American stuff. Like
Tom Sawyer on a five-dollar
bill. Any of that old,
American stuff.

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