Puyallup Fair
Five fingers held away from the muscular
waterfall of the fountain, its mold blight,
neck folds of the man in lopsided sunglasses,
scones dumped on the floor by the trash cans,
signage and flip flops over trampled lawns,
fat woman slumped over the foot massager,
elephant ears at the concession stand.
1970
The doctrine of childishness was rife
in the free world, pin stripes on the fire.
No more tears stained lopsided faces, slogans
folded into overall pockets, glossy haired
giddy rush to fix the flawed world
with unrelenting silliness replacing decay.
Primitives posing, "More mystery!"
we screamed. "Calligraphy, not perfect
participles!" Capsized, dazzled by dreams.
1965
Elvis, Elvis, Elvis rife at our slime-hung school,
we believed Beatles unstoppable, they thought not,
dazzled by the folded sunset of his eyes, as we
nibbled Fritos, set our 45's to slow-motion.
Elvis decayed, Beatles more gilded than silence.
Orange blighted jello clacking on lunch trays
we bunched like muskrats, imagined white fire
in kissing Paul, capsizing Jane Asher's boat.
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