The Imbedded Grit In Arnie’s Face by Dan Sicoli

of what human industry
carried you here, you rattled rover
exiled from the palisades
journeyed dust of weary planetesimals
squatting in epic creases
of your lizard skin

a workman’s attitude
an ethic sense of stubbornness
dissolves in the romanticism of world war anarchy
you survived

you must be some sort of shell-shocked vet
you must be some purveyor of time pieces
you must be the contemplator of cocktail neon

i knew better
than to question
your neighborhood code

but i must admit
you made me itch
watching you
describe your wife
with a unfiltered rage

am i hollow and pretentious?
an imposter in these store-bought clothes?
i can only confess to mocking the clock
of any workday

arnie, you stumbled like a blind man
through menlo park
gripping the schematics
of invention
crippled by the taunting
scorn of a photograph of laughs

Dan Sicoli
Dan Sicoli, of Niagara Falls, New York, USA, is the author of two poetry chapbooks from Pudding House Publications (Columbus, Ohio), Pagan Supper and the allegories. He can sometimes be found in local dives, saloons and barrelhouses banging on an old Gibson with an area rock’n’roll band.

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