>alley finds


switterbit: an aftertaste of rain

two policemen are holding hands
wild snap peas can actually grow in alleys
look — someone wrapped Earth in fat blue cotton

others are going out for Friday perch

an alarm clock opens and closes its fist
a car door slams, someone races back:
never leave home without your color swatch

I’d hate not knowing anyone named Birdie

this one would take his banjo to a violin concerto
that one trusts in lottery cookies
if god had a soup ladle in his hand, she’d ask for a bite of meat

frog underbellys are grey


About redmitten

author of Cracking Geodes Open, Making Good Use of August, and The Peppermint Bottle. poetry editor for IthacaLit and YB Poetry Journal. website: https://toomuchaugust.wordpress.com

4 responses to “>alley finds

  1. >Cotton? I thought it was fine blue silk.

  2. >I just love this….All of it.

  3. Amy

    >I'm with farmlady–all of it.

  4. >you three would be great fun on my next alley drive. what do you find in your alleys?

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