LUCY
Two-hundred
and six
bones—
the skeleton
of a good story.
Snowflakes fall to the ground,
the truck has little gas.
It’s okay, it’s good enough.
This man’s kiss tastes like the moon!
This man’s eyebrows are a work of art!
This man’s Peruvian hands are migratory!
This is as strong as surfing in Pacasmayo.
Let’s sit on this snowy roof
and feel like a tank full of gasoline.
was really nothing.
I was silent,
too caught up in the following to recognize him,
though I’d seen photos.
Mom took them,
the boy in a tailored suit,
on his trike or on the backyard swing,
the boy as master of the puppet show,
or sitting on Dad’s lap
(The Child’s World, Volume One, open to read),
proud creator of the model Alamo,
frowning into the sun with the Easter basket,
next to his Nonno who holds a drink, sporting a shiner
from a diabetic fall, the boy somber
looking straight ahead.
Only when waking did I know him,
this guide to secret places. Now that he’s gone
with the fog of morning as I stepped over the boundary
into wakefulness,
do I know what I would say.
Hey there! Thanks for coming on the show!
Some fun questions from our patrons, then we’ll let you go!
First just let me say how we all are dumbstruck
By your enormous, voluminous, big, loud truck!
It rumbles, it grumbles, it belches out smoke!
So tall that the wheels require 60 inch spokes!
But…
Why choose a whip which needs so much gas?
Is it simply to get your ice cream home fast?
Why do you take up four parking spaces?
Is it so no one your “off-roader” defaces?
When you gun it and run it, before walkers pass through,
Is it just cuz you have something better to do?
Rolling through stop signs, turning left on red,
Do traffic laws not exist in your head?
Your bumper sticker says “This Man Puts Up a Fight!”
But have you ever hauled anything heavier than Bud Light?
One last question, you’re such a good sport.
(And we know that you have that appointment in court.)
With all of that going, From To and To From,
Have you ever been able to make someone come?
No appointments needed, a fair asking price:
Birds sing in the morning, and after a rain.
That’s when it’s easy to see Jesus.
Jesus likes to listen,
so they sing.
St. Francis knew this.
Birds were born knowing this.
But humans evolved a cataract of mind.
Behind mind, we remember
and write poetry.
Saxy Ledy
Triffic Laght
Glabal Worming
Fareign Longuage
