two housepainters standing on a street in concrete wa
it’s a town like its name
grey and pre-grey
textured with the
apathetic disdain of a budget
when they look in the passenger mirror
of our passing car
they might see me
and if I tell the driver a joke
he knows – keep moving
then we ride through
rows of blank chalked flatfronted storefaces
ashen like robbed tellers – xmas eve –
and here two figures standing
like crazed out of work housepainters
their pants covered in flat dust from the plant
and the trucks and you name it
it’s covered
and we’re on to the next town
like ants on a sugar chain