The Stars and Stripes
Wave over Republican garages.
Millennials wait for urges
To go off in their heads
Like kitchen timers
Warning the boiled eggs are done.
I prefer Sunday morning omelets
Cooked in a fry pan over low heat.
A childless neighbor pushes
A pair of Russian Blues
In her baby carriage,
Wheels churning a sidewalk
Decorated with colored chalk.
Mister Dickey and his thin wife
Fill a U-Haul with sheets and trinkets
Preparing to be ghosts.
A green bikini brightens the dead lawn
Behind a cookie-cutter house.
The lizard-skinned mistress
Mists arms and legs with vitamin water.
Last night, her lips confessed
With a film noire actor.
We wrinkle our weekend selves
With cigarettes and sun.
Blue veins nourish my pudding muscles.
Love? As difficult as
Forcing blossoms from the bush.