Tag Archives: Miss America

Miss America

each Miss America
has an old woman
for spare change
she is stuck
swimming until suppertime
cocked and ready
for the coarse apple

each sculptor
has a heat gun
to glue the artifacts
into register
some in a hurry
will bend down
to see their veins
tumble out
proud as buffalo

when the heirlooms
finally flee
their tiny bodies
it will be the grandfathers
that walk back
along the tracks waving
returning to their place
on the hill
above Mortain