A Dark Blue Coat

A Dark Blue Coat
by Hanz Olson
Mine is a dark blue coat taught to keep what clatters
up the street n o w h e r e I ‘ m
n e a r.
An alley train made glass not to feel welcome under the light that stays on.
You and I drink in the truck
like cold bodies never are two items short when stuck
to the legs of a chair and all this paper.
“The music to me is so perfect.
It’s good it happens like that, she thinks she knows me.
Impressive. Wonderful. We’ll have the eyes of a doe
picked out for the thing it is and I asked, “oh yeah
people were coming here not to understand a word
of this worn out musical, wrestling parenting,
complete static of the heart.
I’ve written on this knee only one chapter. Forever
is older boy driven past graduated smiles,
hands never clean.
Screaming on the couch all source of any thought became
California, “the easier chair to move when Monday taps its shoes.
What was left of spirit the next lie involved.
I trust you with a lot of things only this time
the pros are in the stands I ’ m
p r e t t y s u r e. It’ll be sad
sad sad for a couple more hours. The past is a cup “won’t have
to catch up with bells of laughter and phone calls to mom.
I ’ m c o m f o r t a b l e w i t h how picking up chairs is difficult
What I search for is star ball mystery people smell like gasoline,
end up in Wyoming bolted to a rifle dangerous days won’t let go.

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