the man
with a four-pronged cane
reeks of piss
and bleach.

tells me
he could have hopped
a cargo ship
to french new guinea
in nineteen thirty-four,

but instead
he took up
as a bricklayer's
apprentice

and it
ruined him.

lives across the street
in an apartment
above the dog groomers
with a tabby cat
that's been
in a shoebox
for two years.

french new guinea,
he draws it out
long and slow

smiling in the way
of time travelers.

french new guinea,
i string it out
like velvet.


© 2007 by Justin Hyde. All rights reserved.