brushing teeth, mine

brushing teeth, mine
i fell asleep brushing my teeth
thinking how my grandmother used to like
Saturday TV with the midgets wrestling

"Your mother's mother?" she asked
"Yes," I said.
"That figures."

now what was that supposed to mean?
i gave her a sharp look, i did
you should have seen it.

anyway i didn't really fall asleep
zoned out into brushing land
more like it.

a mild trance state
perfectly normal
it happens, right?

(reprise from March '08)

these are the Amish

neat and country clean,
shiny faces,
bowl cut blond hair boys,
girls heads white wrapped,

chin to ankle dresses.
hand made clothing
neatly pressed.
brains stilled of the noise.

save click brush sweeping of the brooms - whisk, whisk.
and heavy clip, clop stepping horses
pulling black carriages.
the family is a unit.

we turned in at the hand made sign
but they were fresh out of eggs.
notice also said donuts.
girl said they had ‘em.

gave the nod, she left her push mower,
to kitchen storage out back.
walked barefoot the length of the gravel drive
in her ankle length gray swaying dress.

returned with an assortment in a plastic bag,
seven or eight doughnuts for a stiff five bucks,
weighing in slightly less than near a pound apiece.
puffy fresh, sticky sweet, tasty mighty good.




why wasn't there a coma after tasty?
cause the rule is: you write 'em any way you like.