Poem of the Day

 

Summer in North Little Rock

Summer of poodles clicking hardwood, 

candied oranges from Melrose Grocery 

who delivered bleeding bones 

for the shepherds out back. 

Summer of big clouds and no rain 

of flystrip heat and no wind. 

North Little Rock the froggy scent 

of wet earth and trains. 

Summer of Grandfather sleepwatching 

the Cardinals of my talcumed grandmother 

smoking Kools on the road to McCain. 

Summer of cut-offs and religion, 

smiling women looming with cookiebreath 

and Christ smiling from the ivory plastic 

lightswitch. Campbell soup summer 

of hunnybuns and sweet water 

from the river Jordan rusting the lid--salvation 

on the neighbor's television set. 

A dollar for malt balls hidden 

in sweating palms on the way 

to the Boy's Club where we caught 

a fever from the water 

from the screaming black boys 

who spoke a language 

my brother and I had never heard, 

bloodlight fear of the electric wire 

in the German shepherds' pen. 

Static pop of linoleum, soap operas 

of desperate lovers and my grandparents 

in separate rooms. Summer of Jesus, 

patient and disappointed hanging 

on the bedroom wall.