honeydunce

the february good-time truck

it’s the lickable red
blowing through a yellow light
the tripped out tinkle dwindles
and
i’m on the phone
in the middle of listening
so i can’t tell anyone.

the following makes my day:
watching the clock flip from 11:59 to midnight
the dot jump from daylight to dark
a high school student named Bear
the Mothra of ‘92
the sun in my face all day
all of the shit i do on my own
laughing hard enough to spit my coffee
talking about sexuality in class
reading good poetry
recognizing myself in the mirror
and seeing the ice cream truck in february.