Monthly Archives: November 2014
McDonald at Dusk
Many a reasoning unreasoning sow.
He himself is heir to the jackass,
to his regret.
The barnyard reeks of natural
and unnatural failings we’d call sin
were that word, too, not joined
to the general disrepair.
The one air drops
As the other rises.
They wave as they pass,
as busdrivers do.
Little victories, hidden in the heart
Cardboard makes a pointy roof
And people climb inside.
They drink a cup of cloudy soup
and watch the pies go by.
Temple
Thirty years a vegetable
A carrot.
Deep in the ground.
It went the other way.
Not the plucky way to the table,
but its own way, down the Solomon
and up the Ganges.
Night school
Where are they?
It was a coat the color of candy
I didn’t like,
Boston Baked Beans.
The man, he couldn’t help
I didn’t like
those beans.




