Thinking of Lonnie Holley
wind knocks a broken screen
water eats the rocks lining its creek
bees drown themselves in work
clover invades a muddy puddle
boots push the clover back
april arrives
birds strip the old lady’s feeders clean
squirrels steal strawberries
raccoons flash gang signs
witnesses can’t get the story straight
little boys pee in fountains
little girls lose their ribbons
fires burn
children trap lightning bugs in jars and watch them die
dogs run from thunder
napkins become swans
swans become horny men
sex is a lollipop melting to its Tootsie Roll center
missionaries believe in themselves more than God or freewill
boys paint bullet holes into their skin
a child holds a toy gun to his head
ants gather crumbs into monuments
sirens outlast the crackle of a gravel road
bathtubs brim with bubbles
someone thinks he’s got what no one else has
purple buses carry drunks out of a drunken town
a ball flies from a girl’s hand
people with dark skin slit chickens’ throats
scrap metal is turned to cash
gold is turned to more cash
pennies become souvenirs
beggars block the exits
cars break and swerve and kill
lead paint peels
human ashes orbit earth
meteors shower us
neighborhood strays stampede
branches fall
trashcans bounce down a road
a barge moans
we stay up too late
we wake to the flick of fingers like a trigger
Shannon Estlund, Meet Me There (oil and enamel on panel)