Or Is It the Tulips
`
Driving by,
lost on a side street
directly in the middle
of where I never wanted to be
Clamoring at the expectations
strewn along the curb
between the broken dishwasher
and empty beer cans
Where neighborhood gnomes
painted gaily colors
wave as if they know me,
but I ignore them - sort of
There is one though
with a hollow bookish smile
that seems familiar
or is it the tulips
Your porch used to look like that
but this door is standing open
behind a welcome mat with a clover,
wish I hadn’t lost that rabbit’s foot
Maybe I am lucky after all,
just found a spot with ten minutes
remaining on the meter, forget it,
it took me fifteen minutes to park
The empty passenger seat
still holds your form,
at least I can see it -
Corinthian leather never forgets
A speed bump at 40 mph
rattles me back behind the wheel
when I see the bank clock flashes 5:00 pm,
still offering a free toaster
And that’s it, another Sunday afternoon
wasted as much as I am,
spinning my wheels
with just enough gas to get back home,
alone
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