TRASH

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Frankie and Johnny
a cruel summer………………………………………………….. johnny, i was afraid of the light
a snake slithers out of a bed…………………………………frankie is screaming
of leaves……………………………………………………………from on top of a chair

johnny

staring out

……………………………………………………….a bedroom…………….the thief of his sight
a god………………………………………………………………….widower
falls……………………………………………………………………the shadows in the meadows

asleep…………………………………………………………………cows bawling
out of curiosity……………………………………………………the smell of the sun
………………………………………………………………………….as it bakes
………………………………………………………………………….the roses and corn

why frankie?

radio bleeds………………………………………………………..water
news………………………………………………………………….in the brook dancing
troops are coming home……………………………………… wildly
…………………………………………………………………………in the tall grass
dead cocks………………………………………………………… frankie running naked
in the barnyard……………………………………………………through the clover
………………………………………………………………………….in the upper meadow
………………………………………………………………………….her lover close behind

johnny stands…………………………………….in his uniform
arms hanging
from his side………………………………………what have you done?
a full moon rising in the early afternoon

frankie

twisting slowly

……………………….

Living on the streets of Toronto, making friends with the druggies, hookers, pizza makers, bus drivers, CBC employees, winos, and people of God, all of them with stories to tell. Sometimes they talk your head off, other times they can’t be bothered, so in a hurry to get on with life. It was exciting. I set up shop on the first floor of a house on Church Street, cleaned up and planted bushes (later stolen) in my back yard, made tea and sat on the front steps watching the world go by.
Short listed in the C.B.C. national poetry contest. These poems are dedicated to the dime novels and pulp fiction, the disposable culture of its day.