Scoundrel Time

Things We Say


After latest tragedy, let’s drift
asleep listing words for what
fish oblivious in waters do:
plunge, glide, dive, sway.

Our daily allowance of banalities
includes again that strange
phrase, “realistic fiction.”

Among many nevers:
Billionaire or seeing
through spiders’ ocelli.

As sidewalk sleeper dreams
of icy vodka careening
in bloodstream’s arena,

as sea assails the shore
with shells, kelp, itself,

think of labor horses
perform in lyric
and actual, foam of lather
slicking necks.

Oh, bury me
like battle reenactor,
musket in casket.

Before then, let’s
you know, it
on historical attraction.

Let’s volunteer hours
overseeing elections.
This candidate believes everyone
deserves what happens.