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Places and Names
by Carl Boon I’ve always wanted to live in a common noun: Patches, Kansas, Butterfly, Arizona, or any place of the dozen called Tombstone. Songbird, Pennsylvania… how beautiful is that? And blend in and soon be wanted by the modelesque blonde waiting tables at the Broadside Grille-- the one with thumb-length scars her apron can’t hide. One June evening amid serious thunder I’ll slide in, sit in the corner, and order an Iron City beer. And she, as in a song, will tie my shoes and tremble, remembering what it was to be wanted Her little boy back home on Apron Lane won’t know how beautiful we are, two strangers in Songbird conversing in thunder, dreaming of life in Skin, Idaho or Snowpack, California. |
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