or, Things Learned Walking 5 Miles on the Solstice
East to West, Roundabout
The distance traveled by
a roadkill raccoon’s liver
is twice that
of his smashed skull
and four times that
of his rigor mortised hands
held forever parallel
as though he had been estimating
how far from the white line
he had to travel
before being smashed
under a tire.
The guts of a plastic yellow
cigarette lighter
(the kind that burn your thumb
if you hold the encore flame too long
at a Milli Vanilli concert
in 1990)
are far more complex
than one might think
yet
remain interestingly intact
when crushed.
Roundabouts have sidewalks and curb cuts
but you need only look
in one direction
before crossing.
Drivers are startled
by walkers
on roundabout sidewalks and curb cuts.
Perhaps unusually so.
***
Roundabout, West to East
Of all the items
available to landscape
a mailbox post,
bowling balls and marble chips
certainly make a statement.
The number of
wood screws
rusty nails
steel flanged nuts
hex bolts
nuts without bolts
bolts without nuts
tiny rubber gaskets
zinc washers
and lug nuts
is worrisome
if we want the world we’re moving
to stay together
when we arrive and unpack.
Sixty-eight cents and a sterling silver fork
(two quarters, one dime, eight pennies)
appeal to the magpie.
Full dirty diapers and
empty Red Bull cans
come, alarmingly,
in frequent and consistent clusters
in close proximity to
bridges and overpasses.
