Out of Necessity

I used to dream about ice-cream trucks

Stalking the neighbourhood to that hollering, antique melody

Never on beat, never on tune, stale as sulfur mouth.

 

If I closed my eyes in my orange brick house

I could tell you where it was, it crept

Past Chanel’s, Lydnsay’s, Alena’s place

On a teasingly sunny day, not a cloud in the sky

And even if I was sick on brownies, cream soda

The sound lifted my chin, I threw on my sneakers

I never asked for change, I grabbed it.

 

Ice shards like glass covered the rude red popsicle

And after all that running, (my lungs felt like bursting)

The sugary ice crystals were older than the truck driver.

 

For the next countless suburban tomorrows

I won’t tie up my shoelaces; I will grab the change on the bookshelf

To the thought of ten-year-old ice-cream

(The fat would coat the roof of my mouth)

Because one day, my faculties will abandon me

And if I close my eyes in my orange brick house

On a teasingly sunny day, not a cloud in the sky

I’ll listen for the kettle before any ice-cream truck goes a-creeping.

 

 

   

The End

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