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in the past you were past
by Bob ArcaniaCall me your aching
dangling tire swing that you were a kid
once
i had a muzzle grown
mouth wide for your gaping speeches
worn
let me like empty
body your thighs to the bedposts
tipped
i find your dark settled
pits beneath green lawns in our birth
quiet
your shoes swept
at the mud dangling tire swings you were
once. 02/26/2007 Author's Note: Nostalgia for a shared non-history?
Posted on 02/26/2007
Copyright © 2024 Bob Arcania
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