Hot Ham Water
1.
Beggars stole our sense:
sensibility. We stole their loaves
of bread white ironed t-shirts
brown leather shoes
the news of bridges, iron
fired caskets. Roaring train track clickety
clack. Smack to blame it on
distances of sidewalks
between our hands. Nordstrom’s
shopping bags. Our rags
stretched over
one-too-many-credit-card-lifestyle-bank-upgrades
tonight, our house: charades
be there
2.
To: From:
Subject: Concerning Recent Church Bullshit.
I’m sorry you left on the fastest east Garden
state wind to Oregon
the desert deserting you
an ugly organ piping,
you there.
like a too-quick-two-buck-chuck-blinding-mirror-dinner.
said we’re done here.
I’m moving to Arizona now, you hear?
Fine. I’m sorry your back was a cutting board
because (we all do a little cutting every now and then)
At least your kid’s in soccer practice
what color are the Jersey’s?
3.
I remember silk screen
snow, dotted toothpick pine
trees. Aspen’s softly
raining yellow leaves
Red sleds. Black-top-stove-top
chimney hats
smoke the color of
November streaking
through
April’s embers.
Then there were the zombies:
bone gnarring marrow splitting venom greening, spitting
Zombies.
—they ate us all.