Field Trip

New Yorkers are always pissed off he said
Embedded in the culture and unlikely
To be dislodged but down here even more so
Because we ate ramen noodles for a year
To make our down payment
A little demon a really bad baby
I pulverized and put in the can for good
Or so I thought but the washing machine
Had boxy white ideas of its own
To summon a thread of fragments
Dust and broken bone across the kitchen
Into the lint trap to revivify

Our sleeping bags under the stars we awoke
Surrounded by small children on a field trip
She said my packing was too precious
That really burnt my butt
She couldn’t find her collapsible cup
Among her tons and tons of stuff
Who needs a tricycle autographed
By Mickey Mantle

The rules weren’t made with such a system in mind
That’s when you have to call an audible