Silver City

Driving through

the silver city,

I’m serenaded by Jeremy M and

10 new songs.


Jeremy came up here, blossomed

from the grass and dirt,

this school, that lake,

these ancient streets.


(We all grew up here,

long ago,

on hot dish, comic books and

beer we stole from our dads.)


Today there are zombies outside HCMC.

Some of them just got out.

The rest are still trying to get in.

They ache for blood and medicine.


On 37th Street

two African women shovel and struggle

to free their minivan

from the season’s fierce, white paws.


I roll past taquerias, convenience stores,

Vietnamese restaurants, a pool hall,

another Target,

Bobby and Steve’s.


Suddenly Jeremy is singing Paul W’s song

about the skyway and now

look at this poor bastard

crying in the mirror.


I’m heading home.

I will burn incense.

I will offer tulips.

I will go on.


Copyright Tim D.


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