Memorial Day

by Julie Davis

the other night
when the shadow of the guitar
smeared on that fake pup’s face
made the real pup jealous
and anxious

grass stains on my lips
little cuts
whistlin up and down
tan, pink, purple, red, black

white and blue
mega color bubbles and
old biscuits and ½ beers
on our tongues
on the floor
on you

slick, slip down the hill
step over chess and strangers
lunge forward
go, don’t stop
maybe turn around
just once

we’ll all end up at home in the end

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