1.
The parking lot behind George and Eddie’s
pushes back in a jagged shape.
We have one working car engine,
one heater, six Rheingolds,
a joint of “good Colombian,”
and a country music station.
Two empty cars are frozen in with us.
We keep expecting their owners,
who never come. We kiss, often
glancing out at the snowdrift
piling up by the side door,
red from the Schaefer sign.
2.
Used to spend free afternoons
speeding on two-lane Indiana highways.
Continued existence due to the savvy
and foresight of oncoming motorists.
Easterners in the Midwest complain
they are surrounded by cornfields.
The East, to me, was the reverse:
no way to get out of town.
Just west on Rt. 3 felt like release.
Totowa
a case of beer
and Thou!
Red neon sign (out of repair)
STRAT MO
TV $12, no TV $11
no TV
3.
Until I loved you,
I never knew
there were so many
blue Chevies.
4.
An early spring morning, the sky’s a silver coin,
and we haven’t been to bed, if that is the truth,
and maybe it is, that would be something.
But the truth, as I understand it, is probably doomed.
Right now, the truth is passed out in the back seat
of her car. Besides, I’m sick of the truth.
The truth is very free with herself. The truth
is beautiful, and stays beautiful through a lot of abuse.
The truth is heavy to carry too. By herself,
the truth can’t take care of the truth. In fact,
the truth’s a real punishment to be around.
But if the truth’s not involved, I don’t care.
5.
George called yesterday
to say he had some bad news.
For once, George didn’t exaggerate.
I sat down to eat again.
In the driveway outside,
my landlord was spray painting a fender
in a motion like the Almighty
wiping you out.
6.
She gave me her breast in a bar
out the neck of a red sweater.
She knew every cop and bartender.
She ran everywhere she went.
She loved pissing out of doors,
bouncing moonbeams off her ass.
Everyone should be understood,
at least once.