Just west of the minimall.
Seeking wisdom. I am a Jew.
Brownies burning in the oven.
Outside, a kiosk.
In the river, rowers from the nearest educational palace.
No one sponsors my journey.
Drowsy brothers. Shady behavior.
Police stopping: cyclists. Everywhere bad news.
Drowning in Zydeco jams.
I am not a Gemini.
Ma never signs. No documents on wide paper.
Drinking ale and Prozac,
he tumbles skillfully downward,
for a minute. Why can’t mom kiss?
The polka is called “Titan.”
Seeking wisdom in the dojo.
© 2013 D.L. Lang
This poem was published as a part of Abundant Sparks. Dig it? Grab the book: