two red trees in my neighbor's front yard,
one slightly taller than the other, stand so patiently
like they're going to prom and mother is taking pictures
when are you going to learn
''girl you're beautiful both above and below the waistline so
that should not be a problem.''
women who ride in the passenger seat with one chalky barefoot
peeking out of the window and smoke from tobacco following
these long parallel yellow lines
three blonds at 3 p.m. sitting in the back
of a taxi cab on a Saturday.
And men who smell like baby powder.
hand the driver my twenty dollar bill, still
rolled tight into a cylinder of embarrassment.
No comments:
Post a Comment