crackerjack has a website,
but their prizes are cheap.
gone are the days of giving your
sugar
a prize ring from a crackerjack
box.
now you'll just hafta get one
for 50 cents from the local Bashas
gum machine.
tattoos were my favorite prize.
little sister & i would stick
them
on our faces & walk to the
post office
to make the grandma's laugh.
now i've evolved into purple hair
& combat boots.
i saw a grandma wearing rhinestones
at the mall the other day.
she looked so beautiful,
wearing those rhinestones like
an elaborate
coral & white shell necklace,
glittering against her velveteen
blouse,
under the fluorescent lights.
maybe she knows the grandpa at mexican
water
that cruises his red dusty pickup
truck to the cafe
& buys a huge cone of pink
strawberry ice cream?
& he licks his hand when the
dry hot sun
pushes the pink liquid down off
the top.
he jumps in his truck, that smells
like a rez truck,
oil, sheep, dust & gasoline,
with a little bit of jeeh (pine
pitch) thrown in,
& speeds off into the red sand
dunes
plumes rising off the washboard
road.
i watch ripples in a puddle of water
captured on sandstone.
a pebble tossed in so many years
before.
waves traveling so fast, bouncing
out & then back in again.
seemingly insignificant & small,
but waves none the less.
echoing from the past into the
future. |
