Buying the Tribune
in the morning
in downtown La Crosse,
walk the redbrick sidewalk.
Past the Bodega,
and last night’s Cigarette Butts,
washing dishes in the back of some restaurant.
Talking a lot, stale-
actions and words; NOTICE: they talk a lot.
watching drunks, and pre-cancer patients and cars being parked—
Save the day.
Wearing shorts under blue skies.
Call clandestine spies, looking up at the corner apartment window-
wondering what’s inside__
… As she wakes,
long legs lie.
Moving, thinking, that fresh brewery smell, now new adult.
In summer heat- beating down,
The Mississippi River on the breeze—cesspool,
I walked back from where I had come
trying to not feel so numb.
Because I had to walk back.