In The Parking Lot
Another viewing's slowness: it looks as if the dead
Are on television,
And she is waking up, dressing in fireworks that will
Persimmon off her body in a two for one sale—
From the heavenly depths of
Miami—
She will look up into a sea of airplanes—and spin outside of
The tent,
And next to the trucks and the supermarkets and
The fast food chains:
And all of that traffic—long fuse rapping around her
For a moment she is delighted—object of holidays—
Red and brown queen as amble as a deer wearing silver
Sparklers—
A spectacle in the parking lot at the end of the day.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
Added by Poetry Lover
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