Play
On, Player!
“Good morning!”
said Why Is It
Called a Flea Market?,
his favorite thing,
being of course,
the game
he never
intends to
win.
He
watches me
this morning
while I mis-
place my
pocket-
watch.
Something
miraculous
happens:
two nickels
appear!
“G’morning!”
Glory dis-
appears at
dusk;
an itch
behind
my ear.
