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Several Days after the Taxes Had Been Paid Not a long drive, and yet, more than a jaunt. The sweating men amongst the joists, Eyeing the growing crowd of worn out Levi’s Stretched over too-dimpled derrieres, sat. That the sweat was the year’s first likely passed them by. That they had a floor to nail down before the real boat Season starts was something crawling around on the Floor of their minds, I cheered as the Canadian Skip slid a rock down the Scot’s throat. I think they’re in Vancouver. I hope Arnie is there, wearing his Maple Leaf. New moccasins stretched their arms around my aching feet; Gravity continued pulling for all its worth on all of us. Amen. The warm glow of summer flew north, a zephyr from Texas. Despite a search for it I found nothing evolving. Even the jeweler had felt it, and said so, fingering her Sapphires and diamonds, warm gold and black pearls, Sighing at the thought of another salesman. Oil and corn, wheat and wood, Nails in a box in the corner, waiting - Quietly, But not patiently, And dreading another villanelle, We ordered a Marguerita. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Helen C DOWNEY On Date: 2005-05-04 08:32:52
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 8.68000
THomas,
Sounds as if someone had a good time after tax time! I feel I have traveled the world as I read line after line. You made me laugh with lines: 'Levi's stretched over too-dimpled derrieres, sat.'
OR : 'Sighing at the thought of another salesman'
...this reminded me of your other poem, "Several Days After the
Death of a Salesman"
You have such great imagery and flow, I am propelled to read it again.
Bravo!
Helen