Wednesday, August 22, 2007
I’ve been living here for six months now,
in this room with its little stack of coasters
by the skirting board near the door.
I don’t know who left them. I used them once
when Cindy and Tom stopped by. When was that?
Last week, the apple trees lining the vacant lot
were transplanted to the traffic island. I think
it was Tom who dealt them when he popped
the bottle of green wine he brought with him.
Cindy didn’t notice. There are still green rings
on the floor where she sat. I can’t yet make out
what they are building on the vacant lot.
Souvenir reproductions of Mexico City.
I always keep Garibaldi Place on top. In it
you can see a mariachi band
with fairy lights and people strolling.
Lovers go there to kiss and dream
about starting a family. About the wedding
cake in the shape of a famous match.
The small marzipan heroes frozen
in icing. The chocolate goal posts. The marshmallow
couple waving frantically from a border
of M&Ms. The evening is humid, a couple
of skateboarders are smacking down apples
in the eye of the traffic.