Changing the Clocks in the Cars
mine’s eight minutes ahead and
sara’s is three minutes further on
eleven years between us and
i’m the one stuck changing the
clocks in both of the cars
on her own time she heads west
i’m due east each morning at
five to greet the truck driver who
never says a rotten word even
when i’m late i’m still early
i’ve never asked what she does
with her three extra minutes
the driver was late this clock-
changing day and we all said
he’d forgotten to set his spring
even the early birds get the
words right sometimes like the
woman who comes in to the store
saying the city smells of formaldehyde
remember the mice and frogs they
handed us: intricate machines soaked
into remarkable messes passing the
one good scalpel amongst us
you don’t forget that smell she
said i hope they catch the ones
who did this foisting upon us
sara’s in charge of feeding batteries
to the homer simpson wall clock
and the audubon clock that greets
each hour with digital birdsong
now both have grown still this week
no birds and no eyes chasing
the beer can second hand around the
dial so i guess the woman was right
about the formaldehyde seeping in
to everywhere the sun hits and still
manages to somehow miss
Gun Shop Small Talk
bumper sticker:
pro-life and proud
of it.
“this is what you want
to have on hand if you
are going to keep living
in that city.”
bumper sticker:
defending the first by
protecting the second.
“no one wants to
work anymore.”
bumper sticker: i’ll take cheap
gas and low taxes. they can
keep their goddamn
change.
“no i haven’t watched a
game since they started
kneeling.”
message on the credit
card machine: the checks
are just the beginning. they’re
coming for them. round up
your purchase to ensure
that won’t happen.
“some storm that was
somewhere else.”
sign on front door: we
reserve the right to
refuse service to
anyone.
