mmdcclxxvii

Waa waa road divider

                   —Ted Greenwald

I gave myself sun-

burn!  And look who’s

at the doorway, look-

ing just as sinister as

he never looked, the

halo almost a floating

aura around this month’s

bangs.  Why, it’s YOU, 
that’s who!  If, for ex-
ample, we were to ex-

change a glance or two

(we do, we did), I’d

think “and just to think,

it all started with I don’t

know you, you don’t know

me. Right?”  Right.  But

somebody must have really

wanted to know something.  
(Right?)   (And what a shame, 
ignorance?)  (Right?).  “Hey, 
sonny, can you make the 
burn go a-way?”  Or can 
you at least make it go 
thattaway.  And to think, 
the burn was the burn
of the party cake, the
slight heartburn of a
heart having a panic
attack.  And the angel
reminded the heart
that there was no panic
at all, was there?  No
panic at all.  Then the
burp.  Then the twinned
laughter.  “Can you make

the burn go away,  kiddo!”
started without the de-
ranged scream, was
more of a simple whis-
per: “Burn it up daddy, 
just burn it all up.”  Ama- 

zingly, since burn nev-

er really goes up.  In

that sense.  It goes

down.  “Look it’s

all burnt down,”

said Sally

walking down

Conifer Lane

for the fif-

teenth time

in a row, thirty

months after it

all burnt down.

The 5-alarm fire

that didn’t even

fry the doorway.

If you look, or at

least when Sally

looks, she can

almost see the

cherub, his red

flowing cape,

and long ash-

whipped nose.