Rain heavy drip-drop
moving slowly on toward DC,
cling to the solid gray brooding
darkness of sick clouds, drip
and I could really go for a hot dog,
had one yesterday under spring-like sun
on Eastern Market street half-smoke polish
wit relish, onions, yellow mustard,
snaps the natural sausage casing
yellow stains on sidewalk sad
though I'm now miles away smelling
tomato soup simmer silently
we prepare some white rice, and Oh,
it's like childhood all over again
quiet apartment lights and the storm outside,
Mom calling out over stove "Dinner",
cats crying in cold of spring,
and I'd hold your hand but I had no time
for girls back then, see
Scarlet Spiders and clones
bounding from my window
at $5.99 a piece
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