The generations mesh so effortlessly
Though the representing people walk
So many miles away from each other;
Whatever it is they are examining
Cannot be seen by the objective eye
Except to say, "Would you like us to
Hold that thought in the front to make it
Easier to pay?"
It comes out of the hand
Like a magic trick: Poison Ivy Barbie,
The Blue Sea Cookbook, the Archie's Greatest Hits.
There's L'll Abner glassware, vintage tongue depressors,
"Loading Up the Mandy Lee" sheet music,
One can learn "The Love of Loons" or "Elizabeth
Taylor's Love Affair with Jewelry," see
A Cinderella slipper pincushion
Under glass.
There are books collected
Like the trash: The Brooks Reader, Confessions
Of an Opium Eater, Collected Tales
Of A.E. Coppard ...
And there are records:
Sonny and Cher In Case You're in Love,
Patsy Montana, Black Oak Arkansas,
Dennis Day Sings Christmas is for the Family,
Soundtracks of Pippin and Five Easy Pieces,
And sound accessories:
The Fleetwood Mac Rumours cover cocaine mirror,
An Up In Smoke Cheech and Chong lunchbox
And a "Jefferson Airplane Loves You" T ...
So much that was loved and discarded
Still fights for the eyes of the alive:
An Oscar the Grouch Talking Alarm Clock,
LA Lakers commemorative banjo,
Peanuts Chess, an elephant lamp,
A pristine bottle of Virginia Dare
("The first lady of the land") soft drink,
Playbills for long-closed shows (Lovemusik),
Buttons for forgotten campaigns ("Symington
For President"), Stieff cats, Moorcroft giraffes,
Mickey Mouse toasters and salt shaker roosters,
A White Flyer Laundry Soap grocery store sign ...
It's enough to give one hope
In some residual immortality
For a life that rushes away, like the sky,
So easily to grey, narrowing
The moment to a pinhole crack
-- Tarkay prints, Black Oak Arkansas --
Only pleasure survives.
