Yard Sale Chair
There’s not a yard sale
I can just drive past.
At this one, I’m hooked
by an easy chair: $3.
There’s not a yard sale
I can just drive past.
At this one, I’m hooked
by an easy chair: $3.
At the four-way stop I wave you on,
a kindness. You wave no no, you go. I wave, go.
We keep on. You insist. Me: no you,
please. A bird shifts, a sigh.
First time I watch my sister set a fire
she’s twelve & I’se eight. Mama & Daddy leave
fa a card party, which mean Rosie & Billy
flee fa they secret flames
The day after she sees her son
dragged from the street like roadkill,
my step-mother returns to work.
What young men won’t do, my father wondered,
scalpel in hand, his army drabs stained red,
catching his breath beneath his surgeon’s mask