Her hands raise from the snow-blended
Mixture to push back the hair that was intimate
with trash.
She raises her head and glances up at the sky
that
She had noticed a few seconds earlier; and
wonders
Of the person who would throw away a nightgown
And wilted plants, dented but unopened cat food,
And scattered baby pictures--
But the cold wind pushes further into her rashed
cheeks;
And she drops the gown before she can mentally
conceptualize
The woman's possible image She digs further
and...
And opening Above where
Two crossing jet
Had each made an element
Of a cross in the skies---
A third, now, and the
Heavens appear to play
Tick-tack-toe with their bad arts,
Or do not know how to push out caulk neatly
When hoping to seal out the heavens.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
McConico
Through the hazy waters
Of his hot bath, looking, he thought
That his woman's pubic hairs
Should naturally have come out
More permed like his,
Regardless of her color.
Pages:
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52