where Bored walk,
and Parks Play–
I gotta give him props…
he is a real estate tycoon!
–in the Monopoly game of mind–
owning the better part of all titles,
and lucky
lucky
lucky
–since quitters go to jail on
double-
down and out
and homeless don’t pass Go so much
as trespass Go,
on Milton Bradley’s block,
2 C notes the poorer, and
slummin’ through backwood barrio
(purples, you know)
–eventual says pool of looping synapse,
turned cardboard sign for
thumbin’ in Orange County
–missin’ Free Parking
by miles…
by boxcars
and
><
this much
–stash
of 5 Bills
(‘promise sorry notes)
just growin’, and
it’s always
(and oddly)
a relief to round
the corner & pay
that highway robber’s rent
again…
to bunk in at
Marvin’s garden
–a bright yellow so Van Gogh,
.period.
& thought train
swirly good
–blurred at the edges
just enough to
make believable…
hell, he’s a slumlord
–sure—
but he’s my slumlord,
and real estate
isn’t worth beans
–in Kansas.
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