A Buttercup in a Crowded Room

a buttercup in a crowded room.

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 lines

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?