-fourth Swansea-

incidentals placed on an end-table

are placed on something else

before being placed on an end-table.

that’s rule number one inside the tenement

across the street from the Esso Station.

my sister’s slow-developing cancer

wouldn’t have recognized her.

she wasn’t required to consider the large intestine

winding its slushy way through her young body

and cancer was busy plotting its theater against our father, anyway.

now for a fresh approach to notate the screeching

screen door of the kitchen leading to the smelly entry which led

to the backyard and why it was hung there in the first place.

but the egg-man looked through it before he knocked

and the flies seemed to like it.

so I listen attentively against the pleasantries of this place,—

the calmness of nature here as it moves on tiptoes from the ground,

outward toward the river;— to the crazy woodpecker beating

a rattling time to the bark of the maple behind where I sit;—

to the days before cancer and unpaid balances;—

to the hours of the constant movement of aromas

simmering;— to the television set serving

as station of calm in the living room after the day’s racket

and a family’s mid-evening order;—  to where the knick-knacks


rested on doilies, on saucers,

on the lids of jarred products of every description,

and it’s all like simply tuning to the daily music I listen to.

                                                         5/16/12