Monday, January 2, 2012

half sonnet for the swirlies

every first of the year or so, there’s a marathon.
my trash can, your trash can, their trash can
all gather on the street for the race to Union County.
it’s the day for pick up, always coordinated
with the first husky wind out of nowhere.
and don’t forget the prizes for the best run race: a

barely-used tarp or a new lid for the one that got away.

    news from a small town 2, January, 2012