Wednesday, May 16, 2012
When he needed a shave
and the mirror reflected only gray rain,
he knew to find a new place to call home
and so packs up his life:
seventeen used dime-store novellas;
an urn leaking the ashes of three kept turtles;
a malamute named Sequoia who hated gunshots and rain;
and a gator named Earl with bad teeth.
He sweeps clean his mind,
the one with the bad habit of getting ahead of himself.
It was okay. He'd find the new place alright—the joy
of each coming day as the rest of himself
and his belongings
arrived one at a time at the new home.