From the Seems-like-it’s-safe Side

Donuts

The gray of the morn
Made me want it even more
Wakin’ from unconscious
Of last night’s excesses

My ol’ lady too
Said, Baby…You
Gotta go get some
So I did

I done crossed the line
Into the neighborhood
So many’ve left
Behind

I drove low
Past the falling pants guys
Waitin’ in the rain
For the currency exchange

Drove low past the cruiser
Dirty white Interceptor
Black hubs and cow-catcher
Where there’s never been no cows

Drove low past the Church
The Church of Joy
Its parking-lot puddles
Of tears, not rain

Drove low past the barred windows
Of the convenience, meat, and grocery
Its billboard bold boasting
CIGARETTES, CITRON, LOTTO, and LINK

I Drove low
And then stopped
Hurried into the lab
Were they make it

Nodded to the girl
Showed my clump of bills
Her tattoo of Magdalene
Appearing to us both

I hurried back out
And drove low again
‘Round a burned-out mattress
Discarded onto the double yellow

Then made it back over
To the seems-like-it’s-safe side
Back in my living-room and kitchen
Tossed the bag to my wife

Warm honey-glazed donuts
To go with the scrambles and bacon
While the landscaper’s mower
Hummed loud in the backyard

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2 Comments

Filed under Poetry

2 responses to “From the Seems-like-it’s-safe Side

  1. Dad

    Good job, Jim. I like ’em all!
    Dad

  2. Anonymous

    Great job, Jim. I like the juxtaposition of scenes.

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