TENSE RAID
I've run out of time, the laundry is
due at the cleaners, the library
is closed and the books are
overdue. Will I ever be forgiven?
Some guys there are talking
about baseball, the baseball
that will never be. No season
this year, Spunkies; is that what
you say? The games have already
been played. Just re-live them.
At the gas station, an Indian man
in one of those Indian wraps looks
almost good with a facemask on.
I hate those slimy glue gloves, and
isn't all that proctologist stuff as
it goes? Hands off the merchandise,
Buddy; not with those.
-
My snuff-book is filled with dates;
murder this one, murder that one.
My schedule is all taken. I feel like
an old dog, running in heat when
there's no heat left. Shine down
the Saran-Wrap facelift. OK?
Everything looks better done
in black and white.
-
Down in old Carlisle, they're
re-enacting Civil War battles now,
along the roads south to Gettyburg's
fields. If it wasn't for lockdown,
I'd go. To yield to that, again and
again, makes me pine already for
the good old days - though we
never called them that when they
were here. What a world, and
how it all disappears.
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