poem...white (part I)

chadwick

white

charlie sam
under the bridge
loaded, empty
withdrawn and abandoned
barren as if a bone to a monarch

with a barrowed extension cord plugged up-to
one chrome and black microwave oven
gently assembled with extra fancy things
softly with educated hands placed into
the working end of a household dryer

but before the magical clatter of destruction starts
a frozen turkey will desire to be spinning on defrost
in the microwave oven (as it tumbles along in dream)

gently handed down
bent over
delicately inserted with care
into the mouth of the circular warm beast

if charlie sam could only plug it in--been out of society 13 years this next month
at the next three streetlights
he always turn left somewhere
down near the pond
at exiting boulevard
the unlit district
in brown and red
mostly in charlie sam's
dancing head