Spending Nickels
The new paisley sofa/couch/chesterfield is snug against the long wall
and flat-backed to it,
I am dissolving like sugar.
Our second rainy day.
Up west,
Gaston prays the downpour doesn’t catch him out –
but it will.
I confess I’m anxious about the next phase of the job I met about last week,
though I refuse to sit by the phone
squandering hours like pocket change in a nickel machine.
Garlic stretches its yellow leaves, sipping the humid air.
When do you get the car?
Ah, so red!
