Market in North America

“No, it’s the same.”

“You’re alright Greg.”

“You made a good choice.”

Freckled mothers, freckled daughters of old Jerusalem,

Poised to rule the world somewhere… 

“How was your day? Would you like a bag?”

With Amtrak card folded dirty in wallet of old man wine section in America, 

Whose brother is a vegan,

Whose parents are on a diet,

House empty…

“You have a good one, sir.”

All clear!

To the angel who could defend herself well from present danger, 

Balancing oranges on your head,

Poised to take over the world.

From Klamath and back again

Flickering freezer lights drive deli Zachary insane after the trash,

The cashier drawer slams closed.

And so, last two hours left of Thursday start by — two people ready for home left.

Thank you, for the beer

For the ice cream.

Who are those lonely children?

Wearing adidas, clean

Huddled beside the onions in black, 

Watching the German with glasses; hands in his pockets towards the wine?

Day before Mother’s Day 

A birthday for a lover somewhere alone along the Rhine,

Have a great evening. With dark hair.

Before I took a wretch to bed with me,

She taught me how to starve for attention.

Strong Mexican mothers returning outdated milk,

Calm voice of family understanding.

“I’ll be bringing in the plants if you need me.”

If you need me –

I’ll be running away.

From winter snow and shoveled driveways, caved-in rooves.

Running away from You,

Vacuuming up her shredded mail and love letters obscene.

For all those who sit far away from Mama on Sunday,

Paying ten dollars for flower bouquet – for Sunday,

Two tulips for my mother.

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