Tuesday, November 15, 2011

A New Joy to Carry

For Kari Kennedy

Hum a song in an olden way,
one colored cherry.

An unknown pleasure escapes
with a current jones.

Names sit in a green box.
They still remain there,

where everyone left them,
so long ago.

Here’s a blue ribbon to reward
the most frightening frown

in all of the land and all of
the generic towns.

Sundays will never be the same.
Not even Super Bowl Sunday.


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