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Originally from
1990
Bursted
At the library display
brown ink, browner-splotched page
in application for a pedlar's license:
"gun bursted" and he could thus
no longer farm, that one arm hanging useless.
Rushing! some farm wife and kids, she the point of V
towards the lurch and buzz and rattle of his coming
down their lane. Oh she at any rate would know
the meaning of the stoutest pot he sold and yet
this slightest fabric for a dress would float
to her the more she kept ahead of paddlers
through that brilliant dust -
their muffled, fussy cries.
Those crazed from life should sell to us.
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