Suburban Walking Blues

by Dudley Stone

1.

Heavy bag on my back

Ain’t lookin’ for no job

No job lookin’ for me

Walk down Corporate, walk down Industry,

anonymous as yellow brick, red brick, stucco.

Space available, will build to suit.

Left lane must turn left.

Black walking stick holding up a wall.

Did your owner crawl home?

Curbside sentinels — blue mailbox, Fed Ex box, newspaper,

apartment finder, employment finder, cars, pets.

Oaks regular as streetlights. Acorns, sidewalks gouged

by the claws of some nocturnal beast.

2.

Sing to myself

Ain’t lookin’ for no place

No place lookin’ for me

Under construction, wooden sticks, yellow tape, red tape,

yellow flag, red flag, dig, don’t dig.

Flattened plastic bottles — beer, water, soda.

Slim Jim package peeled like a banana.

Sunshine stops between buildings. Half expect

to find something raw and dismembered among the leaves.

A Genesis sky darkening — last prayer before color bars — 

yellow cyan green magenta red blue black.

Rows of clips perched like blackbirds along the power lines.

Sidewalk a UPC code, dark dark light, thin, thin, thicker

Yellow and green fireplugs. Gnomes? Trolls?

A streetlight ignites as I walk by: Must have been waiting for me.

3.

Home is the sailor, home from the sea.

Some is the hailer, some from the he.

I never said I was okay. Never said you could count on me.

This was my school after it was my construction site

after it was my backyard after it was my wilderness

and the only thing that could fix whatever was wrong with me.

Under construction we chased each other

through breezeways, climbed the corrugated

exoskeleton. No sonnets in this neighborhood,

just the occasional three-bed-one-and-a-half-bath

haiku. Sails flap on the clothesline. A woman calls

her kids home, banging pans that ring like church bells.

The moon rises, tethered to telephone lines, supported

by utility poles. Look — a shopping cart in a tree,

a stone staircase in an otherwise empty field.

Never knew I’d love it so much

or leave so soon

4.

Walking just to keep warm

Ain’t lookin’ for no home

no home lookin’ for me

No outlet

Exit ONLY

Black cane against the wall.

If we’re both still here tomorrow, you’re coming with me.