Windfall Field Day

by on April 4, 2017 :: 0 comments

gray papoose strolls
in flash bulb light
while a well-armed
leaf blower blows hot
on the bricks,
and the pigeons on
Andy Jackson’s head,
shoulders & horse’s ass
pose a threat to moral decency
there are chestnuts on
the ground
abandoned by squirrels
but looking good
enuff to roast—
Why not?

Start a fire here
at Jackson’s feet,
& in a little tin can
place the testicular nuts
freed from their spiky sac
& glistening;
into the fire
they go,
& glow,
and steam & sizzle —

Andy’s nostrils
flare like when a pigeon
opens its beak to coo —
as the nuts roll out hot
on a fresh copy of Examiner;

Dolley takes one
delicately in two fingers
forming a quaint O,
blows on it with
lips pursed like
a harlot —
and winks!
before taking a
delicate bite
with a kissing sound;
then I turn
& she’s gone;

the gray papoose
pats the grass
with his paws like he wants
to smooth out the world,
but the world
passes in a
of tobacco smoke
& the beeping
of a bus’s

what’s to do
but take a hot
nut as big
as his head
& start to gnaw
the world (this world)
to bits
to bits
to bits

editors note:

When presented with a chance for reconstruction; gnaw, baby, gnaw! – mh clay

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