Wednesday, May 30, 2007


Dear mariners, Tastee Freeze.
As much as you dare to eat,
day after day. Dear astronauts,
spiraling microwaved burritos,
free-floating cans of refried beans.
Can opener pinned prone
to gritty kitchen counter.

It occurs to you, the woman in the drugstore
you thought you knew—
the sound of bent vinyl blinds
under beards of filth. Disturbance of wind
surrounding convenience stores
on the odyssey across the street
in exacting sunshine.

Dear beauticians, traffic lights.
Eyes look at you.
Eyes change as they look at you.
Coils, loops of change.
It happens when you’re walking
to the intersection.
Notice, the sound of everything,
everything together?
A rattle, a nothing.



Blogger Rob said...

hey do u have Kris Bronstad's email address? she is an old friend from New Zealand (she lived there a while with her family and twin Kate) Or if u know her can u give her my email pse?

I was messing around online seeing who of my old friends I could find while having a corona and listening to led zeppelin....and waiting for the Chinese food to be delivered (no MSG, please)

rob clark


2:51 AM  

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