"pulchram" poems
you're like lavender hills
and tropical skies
the words between my lips
and the warmth between my thighs
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 6:45 PM UTC
The best learning
comes from putting books aside
and discovering the public world
on the road.
A few years back,
I put my textbooks on hold
To take a trip to DC’s
Native American museum.
My favorite scene of the museum
was the wall
commemorating the Navajo Code Talkers
of World War II.
As I walked around solo,
I pretended that I was my dad
walking around slowly and curiously.
The moment I entered the museum,
I lost track of my campus group
among bustling tourists and museum enthusiasts.
But shouting for my mom
hours away
might have only made me
stranger than a stranger.
Crossing several lanes of traffic
in search of dinner
felt like a level of Frogger (Seinfeld reference).
I wasn’t expecting dinner and a show,
but apparently the show came first
when a man named Dan
intercepted my path to a McDonald’s corner restaurant.
It was no surprise that a fellow loitering the streets
would turn out asking me for money.
I hypnotically scoured my pants pocket
and unfurled an Alexander Hamilton bill
for Dan to confiscate.
Surprisingly, Dan refused a quick grab-n-go.
Coolly, and I kid you not,
He wanted to perform a service
Before compensation.
Dan apparently wanted to earn his money
By singing a song.
All I remember from Dan’s singing
Was how he sounded pitch-perfect,
Like a sincere American Idol audition.
The glitz, government, and grub
of DC
Will never beat the day
Dan and I met on a backstreet sidewalk.
Jun 27, 2020
Jun 27, 2020 at 6:38 PM UTC