Friday, January 13, 2017

four fremont st octets


fortune cookie fortune caught in a Chinese
evergreen oak windswept outside the market—

green travel trailer jacked up on blocks, signed for
amongst closed food trucks—stubbed cigarettes in

a chipped yellow planter, gas line loops around
a low bamboo; crumpled black bag surfacing

from Japanese maple leaves by the handpainted
car, a red-gold dragon blazoning its hood


concrete Budai frozen in laughter between
two pruned camellias & two bowing ferns;

concrete pavilion under mitsumata’s
silver buds; they dangle off red branches like

baubles next to the hooped wooden rain barrel—
multitude of fallen leaves in a circle

of pavers mottled with colonies of moss:
whenever you look the Budai’s unaltered



cold frame hoops piled against chain link—too late now;
Tuscan kale & chard in raised beds with frost killed

lettuce; tomato cages in primary
colors, some upright, some tumbled down; dormant

grape vines knotted & snarled along the top rail
by the sidewalk; flattened cardboard boxes rot

on mounded black soil, a slatted compost bin
heaped half full with stalks & unharvested squash


where the street curves, black mondo in disarray,
hellbore budding despite blighted leaves, yucca’s

haphazard gestures; two sandwich boards: yoga
& bakery; steam gushing from the laundry’s

exhaust pipes, & a coffee cup with heat sleeve
between two stones with indecipherable

white letters; past the hermetic ivy hedge,
swing set’s unorthodox tire on rusted chain

Jack Hayes
© 2017

No comments:

Post a Comment

Thanks for stopping by & sharing your thoughts. Please do note, however, that this blog no longer accepts anonymous comments. All comments are moderated. Thanks for your patience.