Monday, March 21, 2016

PULASKI PARK

He should
probably start
charging

admission,
the way—the steady
ongoing rush

of traffic
incoming on the John
F. Kennedy is

so close—but just
out of sight enough

to only lend
a kind of—
audible hush

that helps set
the right
context for

the grand yellow
lawn—painted

so exaggeratedly
wide with cold

streaks of
mud and such
glassy morning

mixtures
of dog piss
and dew—and spread out so

long, too, at the
foot of his

benevolently
dilapidated mansion.

No comments:

Post a Comment

HOW DO YOU FEEL?