responsive-lightbox domain was triggered too early. This is usually an indicator for some code in the plugin or theme running too early. Translations should be loaded at the init action or later. Please see Debugging in WordPress for more information. (This message was added in version 6.7.0.) in /home/sundre5/ducts.sundresspublications.com/content/wp-includes/functions.php on line 6114 <\/strong><\/p>\n <\/strong><\/p>\n Rose Petals in a Blue Bowl * * * <\/strong><\/p>\n <\/strong>* * * <\/strong><\/p>\n The Gardener of Annie B Street is Gone<\/strong><\/p>\n As though it awaits his return, Like the gardener whose knees creaked The garden, too, has gone to seed. A gaggle of unused tomato cones tangle Rose Petals in a Blue Bowl A swatch of sunlight slips over my shoulder. On the wall a reflection of steam rises from my tea- like smoke from a small fire or the spiral from your cigarette just before you touched my arm. * * * Revenge It\u2019s like big, fat Danny Garrido and my […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3047","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3047","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3047"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3047\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3110,"href":"https:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3047\/revisions\/3110"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3047"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3047"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3047"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n<\/strong>
\nA swatch of sunlight slips
\nover my shoulder. On the wall
\na reflection of steam rises from my tea-
\nlike smoke from a small fire
\nor the spiral from your cigarette
\njust before you touched my arm.<\/p>\n
\n
\nRevenge
\n<\/strong>It\u2019s like big, fat Danny Garrido
\nand my fly weight brother, Butchie, fighting
\non the sidewalk in front of St. Luke\u2019s
\nover a bad stickball call
\non a hot night. They push and shove each other,
\npunch each other with balled fists,
\nkick each other till Butchie falls backwards,
\nmaybe smashes his head against the hydrant,
\nagainst the gravelly cement. Like a dog
\nwith spit dripping from his lips,
\nDanny shuffles side to side,
\npunches air like Jersey Joe Walcott;
\nthen he knees Butchie in the chest
\nwho squirms like an upended turtle
\nin sand, pummels his face until he sees blood
\nand snot stream from his nose.
\nDanny is happy to see the blood,
\nto see Butchie cry, happy to hear the other kids
\nhooting and hollering above him in a circle,
\n\u201cGet the bastard! Get the bastard!\u201d
\n\u201cGive,\u201d Danny says, \u201cGive or I\u2019ll knock out
\nyour fucking teeth, you bastard.\u201d
\nDanny the bully\u2019s so dumb he doesn\u2019t realize
\nhe\u2019s the bastard. I cross
\nmyself and swear to Jesus, Mary
\nand St. Joseph, I\u2019ll make him pay. <\/strong><\/p>\n
\n <\/strong><\/p>\n
\nthe honeysuckle-choked cub tractor,
\na red-beached hull, hugs the corner
\nunder the willow of the quarter-acre plot.<\/p>\n
\nand eyes clouded, its smooth running
\nfour cylinder no longer thrums.
\nIntestines exposed, its headlights
\nglaucomaed in noon day sun.<\/p>\n
\nZucchini emulsifies, snap beans yellow
\non the vine and chili peppers pine,
\nhors d\u2019oeuvres for bores and worms.<\/p>\n
\nby the chicken wire fence. Peaches
\nthat his broken-hipped wife would have cobbled
\nwith brown sugar and clotted cream
\nclump at the foot of the tree.
\n
\n<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"