say thanks
almost as
beautiful
as velazquez
rokeby venus
the two girls walk
down seventy-fifth
smiling in belly baring shirts
drinking their
monsanto-laced starbucks
long legs already tanned
in the late spring
they are a simple pleasure
in an otherwise
sweaty and work-filled day
when they suddenly stop
look left and curl into themselves
their smiles gone for good
they pass me with their heads down
and when i get
to where they were standing
i see them
two young men
all hats backwards and sunglasses
t-shirts with stupid sayings in neon
their hands still on their crotches
making like they want to hump a fence
a bottle of jack and a cooler of beer on the porch
like a portents of doom
screaming down the street
at the girls
the least you could do, bitch
is say
thanks.
1 comment:
Nice poem.
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