mcdaldno

A poem: Slicked

He traced Bermuda against backsides
smiled from the corners
slicked his marks and
left them commenting on his good upbringing.

He blew into town one day
out the next
lookin' to settle down
post-next. trick.

He traced Bermuda against backsides.
lost all of his maps
in ditches.

We pieced it like a puzzle
the curlicues, misplaced signatures
- the dollhouse
He was 14 blocks full speed
When our wallets were declared missing.

But it wasn't all bad.
No, not in the least.