a buttercup in a crowded house
for those who choke on anger
more discreet than distance dared to glow
our dear-departed snowplow
has dredged his last farewell
pulled his covers down onto the coleslaw of a duck.
death has come and snagged a lullaby
as pretty as a pimple on a butt.
it was the lure of ale on a pin-striped silhoutte
singing with the swinging arms
of sweetest jazz through bible shit
that flew me second-hand in a wooden box.
chemical in mood but still it strays
this buttercup on a half-hour nip-an-tuck
thirty years of laughter
through McDowells pig and whistle
in a coffee-cup of dentures
where cracks the jaws of every joke I sucked.
am old enough to laugh these high-heeled toes
that walked my back to the soft side of my youth.
more discreet than distance dared to glow
did I love you? I dont know!
the pulpit man suggests I told him so.
and who are you to argue with the dead?