East Parkway Poem by Raj Dronamraju

East Parkway



The lights that are put up during holidays
Strung from telephone pole, gate, tree
Blur together, become fuzzy balls of yellow light
Cast a glow on the back seat where Terry and his time lords suffocate reason
And the streets rub against each other like cats in East Parkway

And the man with unusually hairy knuckles
Plants fearful paradoxes in the heads of lifeguards
Now they don't swim at all
In full and drowsy minds
Content in air conditioned cocoons in East Parkway

What we know of memory and what we know of doubt
And what we know of carnivals
Could be burned alive in pasty cellars
So unlike the healthy smell of burning leaves in cooler outdoor places
Not that far but not that close to East Parkway

There might be two of every animal
And three refrigerators
In every kitchen cooking up covetousness
And a surprise that makes your tongue swell up
Indigestion handled as a family matter in East Parkway

Welcome to degenerates who practice non-fiction
Brandish a letter opener as a weapon when they hear an opinion they don't agree with
Creation in the laundry which has been programmed for a bigger load
Electricity bills going up in East Parkway

David charts the rise and fall of man in a given area
He boils eggs and sleeps on the floor
Never withstands the apology of the marketplace
He has made a report that ties all all loose strands together
But all that is revealed is that parking on the streets at night is not prohibited in East Parkway

Saturday, March 30, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: fiction
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