A piece from my upcoming collection A Stirring at Dusk (PSKI's Porch Publishing, New York)

A great way to stir the senses, remembering a first job and the deadbeat boss...


Welts

It was my first welt -
October 1993,
earned pumping gas
for some two-bit huckster
down the road,

in night-visions a ‘51
Chevrolet
would roll in beside my pump,
me, and this God-fearing coot called
Klaus —  comparing welts;

he would drive home to Martha, chuckling,
I showing mine to dad,
his knees ascended from winter-scent ditches,
welts the size of Kansas—
mine a prototype, straight from Rhode Island.

(c) John Doyle

Comments

  1. MECHANICAL BOY23 May 2017 at 19:39

    Angel headed hipster...nice work. Tight. Lean. Like a hip Eliot.

    ReplyDelete
  2. John Doyle 24 May 2017 at 03:46

    Which Eliot? Joe or Gould?

    ReplyDelete

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