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VALERIE MACEWAN
When My Cousins Come Down from Ohio
Six blocks to downtown,
past St. Peter's
Evans St. Fish Market...Atlantic Ocean smells and seagulls pushing
the envelope
grabbing mullet from the back of a truck.
Coffee tin of worms, bamboo pole,
two white buckets, one for the catch,
one for a chair.
Snatches of conversations when we stride by, struggling for aerobic
fitness while others
sit on buckets and relax,
watching mullet jump.
I've got a wife
and a good paying job
and here I am,
trying to eat Beanie Weenies.
He's selling the pop-up camper,
wants to buy Muscovie Ducks and raise 'em.
...No, in the side yard.
When the police got to Bill's Hot Dogs,
they found the man
sitting in his car
Officer Lee spotted him first, they said,
and told that the hot dog was in his pants pocket.
It was in today's paper.
Charged him with larceny from a convenient store.
The cousins turn to me, winded and sweaty,
We couldn't live here,
there's nothing to do
...is this it?
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