can you see it from the road? now that the world is through with us as girls, can your eyes as a grown woman see the fire, Erma? I bet you were crouched behind the tree from a safe distance watching with slanted brown eyes. I know you must have cried when your room busted like a cherry, your cherry. The room we fell asleep in, licking sour sugar from our palms, blaring heavy metal from a little radio, flashing small boobs at traffic. now that the world is through with us, now that the house is nothing but black dust.
each day I see this guy - on my way home from work. he's this odd young man, he wears a wife-beater, long shorts, bandana, but that's not the odd thing. . . . he dons a yellow snake with faint brownish spots around his neck. a fat snake, really long too. in his right hand, a leash, attached to a pit bull. they all seem to froth at the mouth. today he looked me right in the eye, even though I'm in my car making a right hand turn as speedy as possible. and I what I want is to get rid of that image. odd huh.
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