Black Eyed Susans smile and say G’day
Governor and it is a perpetually sleepy
time in the south where the willows are
a weepin and the crickets have quit and
time is walkin through molasses and my
mind’s eye hides behind RayBans spying
stalled ships off in the distance all along
the Tropic of Cancer where rappers with
attitude once hurled horses overboard in
beats and rhymes from another time were
mere marches penned by Sousa stars and
stripes and the halls of Montezuma and
periwinkles are still blooming along with
gladiolas and tobacco and French marigolds
whisper about the scent of boxwood while
dreaming about that of a woman who wore
a fragrance of romance left in doorways of
despair that slammed shut over things we
once said and others left unsaid L bombs
and bomb throwers on TV talkshows who
know next to nothing as the day progresses
feelin like a country bumpkin en jardenias o
esos cespedes still yearning to hold her like
a Spanish guitar where have you gone like
a shooting star here today gone tomorrow
thinking about all these things under the mid
day sun while mowing hissing summer lawns
No comments:
Post a Comment