In Remembrance to a Poem by Frank O' HaraIt is 11:10 in Lakeland a Tuesday
two days after the World Series,
it is 2012 and I brush my teeth pearl white,
because I will get off the cozy couch in my abode
at 1:15 and then go straight to Publix
and I don't know who will buy my chicken.
I walk up the freezing, tree lined, dead end street
and open the mailbox with my small golden key
a stack of unwanted bills and political ads
greet my blue oil pocked hands.
I go on to my deli
and Miss. Calmwater (first name Bernice I once heard)
doesn't even tell me to cut the salami thinner
and I ponder O'Hara as I exhibit the slice,
or did I re-imagine film-scenes from the Artist,
that dog stole the show, and made me smile; or
was I thinking about my friends I would see,
the images were practically lulling me to sleep
with salami on my slicer.
And then I am asked to help Ms. Cherry
I stroll on to the kitchen cautiously
but my feet slip Chaplinesque from the grease
spilled onto the floor. I wake up from my dream
and stab the dead chickens.
And I am sweating a lot because it time to go
homeward bound, and so much to clean.
while Patsy Kline sings the lines to Crazy
written by Willie Nelson,
I push my broom faster.
Influenced by the Format of The Day Lady Died by Frank O'Connor.
