Living here
amid the morass
that is circumspect
to audacious inquiries,
one wonders
what happened to the olde oldeander,
if it had been on the table
next to the dishes drying on that rack
in our small apartment.
black forest nights
met with the racism of the day.
we made our funerals
just sitting there doing nothing
since we weren't cowboys yet
but just some people
who had been caught under the rug
while trying to do
i could have thrown
the knife rack
that awful one bought us,
like it was some perjorative problem
to have to slice potatoes
with a pocket knife
after she came
and bitched at us in a bar
for talking to the girls and boys,
like we were some male prostitute.
well she got really fat and dumb,
as for her parents
it is probably best
not to think about the time
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