all the faces here hawk their wares
to the next
buyer, memories for pennies
nickle & dime you, at tables, in stalls
toys, cards, coats, stickers, some appliance
i can't guess where to put, pillows, clothes
a velvet Elvis or ten, movies, road signs,
clutter to shift one house to the next
flea-ing the market
he's the loudest, crippled, bent, small
in some places,
hunched big in the shoulders
all out of proportion, a cane, bandana-ed bald pate
'how bout an autograph?'
'sell you a picture for a dollar,
my book for ten'
it's hard back, in sleeve & says WOO!
he much bigger when a professional
wrestled with the best, knew how
to take one to give them a win, steel chair
to the face, razor blade to make blood
& sell tickets---
his fifteen minutes over,
it's good when you're in it,
feels like it would last forever,
i know this, and after,
it was the wrong goal all along
if i had a dollar, i'd give it to him,
take a picture, put it atop the mantel
and tell everyone----'LOOK!!!!
YOU must have ONE!!!! do you know
WHAT it's WORTH?!'
but the coins that jingle, like
kindergartners learning to clap, missing hands
more than hitting out of coordination,
in the depths of my pocket
they're for dinner, and if i'm lucky
it might get better, if you'll let me
sell you an autograph
Over @ dVerse Poets, it's OpenLinkNight....the weekly poetry extravaganza where poets from around the world all settle in one place to read, write and get our poetry fix...so write...come join us. Doors open at 3 pm EST.