Sunday, September 26, 2010

Let me ground you: a childhood of after-church-Sundays

Lunch, then open houses.

Ruth—a family name. Truth—not.

The 3.0 that we were. Went looking.

In the forsales—mostly cubed, with lids.

Father number two did research, his thumbs

ink-stained, licked.

I think we all enjoyed. The clean windows.

Shiny knobs. Bathrooms w/o brushes.

Garages without car.

The promise of built-in shelves.

Of insert family “here.” Where the highest

number of stairs, was,

we wanted hard, historic woods.

Put an elephant in those closets.

Swap cards. Loddy-dah. Our tradition.

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