INQUIRY STREET
Amended to nothing at all, deleted and taken away,
that junkyard along the hill always looked special
to me; now it's gone and I'm still here. Water-barrel
rain-spout dripping rooftop mind. Over-covered
rusty metal, paint and peel, glass and steel.
Everything from so long before,
disappeared like an open door.
-
You can scribble in your open book, write
notes to the very environment itself. It
won't matter, here now on Inquiry Street.
Where the trailer park is, the junk yard was,
and the old poison mill (we called it) that
made bug spray and insecticide gel. Their
lake of cobalt blue water? Who really ever
knew. Water that color, too blue to be true.
-
Yet, no matter, Wednesdays to death, I lived
my life athwart those tracks. Train whistle
locomotion black smoke turned electric
whiz-kid fastball gopher trains heading south
to nowhere and north to Hell. Nothing really
made sense. I lived there nonetheless.
that junkyard along the hill always looked special
to me; now it's gone and I'm still here. Water-barrel
rain-spout dripping rooftop mind. Over-covered
rusty metal, paint and peel, glass and steel.
Everything from so long before,
disappeared like an open door.
-
You can scribble in your open book, write
notes to the very environment itself. It
won't matter, here now on Inquiry Street.
Where the trailer park is, the junk yard was,
and the old poison mill (we called it) that
made bug spray and insecticide gel. Their
lake of cobalt blue water? Who really ever
knew. Water that color, too blue to be true.
-
Yet, no matter, Wednesdays to death, I lived
my life athwart those tracks. Train whistle
locomotion black smoke turned electric
whiz-kid fastball gopher trains heading south
to nowhere and north to Hell. Nothing really
made sense. I lived there nonetheless.
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