to win your love--Junior Walker
sang that when I was almost a high
school sophomore. A weird idea,
sophomore. Second.
Windy City second to New York.
Jan Brady second to Marsha. Second
is also a hippo bathing
in the Hudson. People do look
despite themselves. Have I won
your love? It can’t be won
or lost. Maybe misplaced?
Long ago I sat with two friends
on a grassy hillside and watched
July 4th fireworks. Oow, ahh,
over. Will we go out that way?
Grief’s sax blaring
after the finale when the American flag
shimmers and spins, then poof,
it sputters out,
lawn chairs stuffed in trunks.
