WARBLERS
I don't lionize a bird call, nor
do I fly away from lions. It's
all the same now for me. If I
can just manage to hang on,
I'll want nothing, nor have
any positions about anything
again. Nothing matters now,
and I've left the rest in tow.
-
I never know, now, if reading
a newspaper is glimpsing the
future, or rehashing again the
past; what crumbles away, or
what's made to last.
-
I'm pretty simple like that. Today,
outside some foul convenience
store, while I waited, while my
wife was in the store to get herself
some water, and for me an iced tea,
which I had only sort of suggested,
never meaning, but I got it anyway.
-
It seemed a piss-poor neighborhood,
in some place I'd never rightly been,
Jermyn, I think the sign said; or it
was maybe Jessup. I feel they're both
there around somewhere: a raggedy
used-car lot, a Shinola Pizza Palace,
I also think it read. A carpeting store
offering floor waxing and buffing.
I figured that to be not 'to go.' Or
I then figured that had to come to
you, in order for it to make any
sense. Like when you see a lawn
sign for a house, which reads 'For
Sale By Owner.' Which at least
makes sense. But if your neighbor
really pisses you off, you could
put one of those on his lawn,
except first making it read 'For
Sale By Neighbor.' An old movie
theater, all boarded up; and a
bowling alley no one goes to.
It's good these places still
exist : good for the cultural
blending of things.
-
Then the wife says, 'How come
they call this 'South' Main Street?
I haven't yet seen a north.
No comments:
Post a Comment