Saturday, August 13, 2011
They gave him a notebook and a bus stop
and said, “Alright, now, get to work.”
But then the dew came on,
the bottle caps and cigarette butts,
and there was grit right up
to his old blue
They gave him a telephone,
black with rotary dial,
the one his mother used before,
then after, she lost her mind.
“I like you better in that tie.”
His father, was dead — so dead,
no one had ever been that dead before;
every time he turned on the light in the garage
he felt just how damn dead he was.
He was scared to look in the freezer.
The years passed, as years do;
finally, one day, the telephone rang.
“I need you, son. Come home.”
These kids with their energy drinks:
how many would even know how to shine
an apple or an orange, or to sweep the sidewalk
to the street by old man Seltzer’s clock?
Bah. Bah to the diesel fumes. Bah
to the howling brakes.
Make something out of nothing.
That’s what it takes.