lamborghini smiles
by Merlin E. Greaves
the sign across the street read
bills pizza
it was all i could look at
and i didn't even scoff at the missing apostrophe
like i normally would have, because she was there
peripherally in full scope, like a lamborghini
three back and off to the right
ferraris come and go -- on the highway, in a small town
frequently enough to numb you from the excitement that
you felt as a child in its presence
but there's just something about a lamborghini
sitting there -- something elusive
i was in her presence, and i was struck with it
enough to worry that i might even be noticed
that i might even have to be considered
that just didn't seem fair
paralyzed for want of obscurity i sat there trying to do anything
but look straight at her
and so i instead focused on that neon sign
bills pizza
all the while wondering how it was
that this world that i had had at my tips
could show me something so extraordinary as to make me feel ordinary
again
for the first time in ages
and then i looked at her, shakily
but without drawing away
and waited like a child for the world to smile
infinite sadness walking
disheveled as though i had fallen off a table somewhere
i struggled to attach onto some kind of expression
one that said no,
one that said not this time,
one that said i'm not ready
all i got was why --
i stood there a few seconds wondering why
only to know all too quickly that it wasn't going to get any better
for a long time
me and why went walking --
I've spelled him sometimes and sometimes he spelled me
at first i could hardly keep up for to sleep,
but then i noticed why was weakening
so i had to move on to keep him going, and i think he appreciated
the opposition, as it were
gradually he fell behind, and I would hear his cries
in times of dreary
i still feel him behind me when it's real hot and dry and
uncomfortable
he was always so strong when it was
uncomfortable
©2002 by Merlin E. Greaves
Slow Trains, Volume 1 in print
