this big Saturday

at last, the rain, and it comes down heavy
this hot air, balloon summer, humid and sulky
I stood around outside for two hours just looking, shuffling,
spitting sunflower nutshells on my tombstone sidewalk

thinking of driving my motorcycle out to the farm tonight
out to where my wife and kids have been, thinking of
taking ’em into town for the street dance

down here in this basement, smoking a cigarette, I hear that
train whistle blow again, for about the thirteenth time today,
this big Saturday, full of nothing

I untie my shoes, loosen the laces, pull ’em off,
toss ’em to the middle of the floor
I suppose the neighbor will be by sometime shortly,
suggesting we boil a pot of his fancy tea
I decide to scrape the pipe once again, smoke another bowl of
soot viagra

This entry was posted in Books and Collections, Pipe Etchings, by Joseph Greenwood and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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