Tomb of the Unknown Voter

I’m a voter in the rhythm
Can’t skate with the buffaloes
My horn is plenty
While the rainbow
Is quite enough
For the suicidal colored
girls.

At night
I wait
By the stop sign
For something
Anything.
The ditch behind our house
Was fun for awhile
And when that fun didn’t last forever
I took my frustration to the street.

Seeing
Two girls smoking
Outside my window
Was enough to sustain
My addiction for a moment or two;
That too, didn’t last forever
And I was in my own room for gawd’s sake!

When we cut all the plants
And bushes down
It was dirt and dirt only
The planter-box was empty
And the neighbors likely
Thought we’d lost it
That, and perhaps that alone,
Signaled the end of childhood
For me. Something shifted inside that
Day and I knew nothing would be the same
It certainly wasn’t for the trees and shrubberies
I took father at his word
That the lawn would someday turn concrete.


-jim hill (3-27-09)