Soft Maracas

There's an operator
    of soft maracas
    keeping the tempo
    for all of us...

    So by cold light
    of heavy snow
    I sold my red hearse
    Became a van's shadow

    Changed my name
    Practiced it slowly
    William A. Ripple
    Molasses

    Low resolution digital photographs
    Colder than rum
    Poor exposure
    Laugh!

    My mouth could hide
    its lugubrious poems
    behind peppermint gum
    until my heart bursts

    Every immigrant
    should have a song
    should beat a drum
    should remind us of

    Lettuce we won't grow
    Clothes we won’t mend
    To make deliberate eye contact
    with total strangers