Sunday, April 26, 2009
the braid of tin cans slip and spill off a bumper.
1954 and this is what marriage looks--kite-like, strings and noise,
we will be considered something of a gleam years into the future.
and the narrative arc drops off its checked climax
to the final unraveling.
where is the raveling up? this is not about how to place
your chin into a past hat to come out dark
and cleft, the beauty of shadows.
heat and screaming children drink
in the formation of summer. the lazing of sunday
and screen doors that creak closed/open. a coca-cola
commercial to live by. addiction minus substances to abuse
equals a flat line. the sound of tires turning up
a dirt lined drive--all of this family.
all of this noise.