Vendituri Te....
Micro graveyards by the side of the road,
saint ronny of the semi
and saint rhonda of the 'Gator!
Buster wuz kilt by the road,
he pointed up the driveway to
the main thoroughfare,
but me 'n maw planted 'um here.
he nodded to the oaken cross
topped with a plastic crown
and a rude sign beneath
Buster of Brownsville,
king of the hounds;
a pretty blasphemy bringing
a tear to the eye of angels and
quickly forgiven: this strange melange
of love and loss and faith.
saints billy and bobby of the six-pack
and the angel dust cousins.
we went into the garage, into the shade
where the sale items were;
a history of lives disjointed now
like the bones of ancient tribes
back-hoe'd to the light of day
and scattered to the four quarters.
machinery and broken saws,
barbells and weights,
and a tokapi mirror wherein
you saw the image of a sexy ghost
admiring his bulging chest!
and an old fry cook's kettle,
and the smell of WD-40.
we drive on and see
micro graves by the roadside;
saint johnny of the Hog and chain,
saint ahmed of the Focus,
felicia, sweet and innocent,
her memory exposed for all to see!
--
Vendituri te... (salutamus) we who are about to be sold salute thee!
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