-important things-

The Coonskin hat

was sucked from my head in a stiff breeze

over the schoolyard

floating ridiculously tail over tail
into the woods beyond the fence 

and we weren’t allowed to go in the woods.
Maybe it was going where it belonged.

I was young enough to cry but I didn’t

knowing the hat was not on my father’s

list of top five things not to lose.

Any amount of money was the first.

Anything belonging to my sister was next.

My report card was third.

One of my sneakers was the fourth, and anything

brought to "show-and-tell" from the bathroom was fifth.

The coonskin was back there with the school picture

of Natalie Fonseca smiling with a missing tooth.

Now you’ve got your political candidates.

You’ve got the toilet that won’t shut-up.

You’ve got the suit with the dot of a stain

near the zipper of the slacks you try to hide

by foolishly buttoning the jacket from the bottom.

I’ll add death here only because my parakeet
left its cage and flew outside, across the backyard,
over Healy Street, and into Rachlin's Junkyard
never to be recovered three days after the Davy
Crocket Coonskin hat took flight.






                                                 Quequechan