by Paul French

Created on: November 12, 2008

The Happy Meal Window

A murmur and I pull forward
A breeze knitting
through my fingers

It's a pleasant day to taste America.
Got to calculate the distance
So I don't have to reach
Too far

In the wait, I have to think
That there's a world without this
Without cellphone napkins
And clocked-out words
Without sanguine jingles
And Coca-Cola monarchies
Without your late night Kama Sutra
Firebomb fantasies
Costarring your boss
Without serpentine playpen revelry
And plush nuclear flashlight cushions
Without paltry conversations
And poultry flavored tenures
No.

With skeletal children
Smearing rich crimson
With opaque buildings failing to,
Gleam, advertising kingdoms
With blotch sealed rags
And hard drawn wrinkles
With men who watch
A priest draw their only hope
In the stale air that crowns the bed
With "Arbeit Macht Frei"
Instead of "I'm Loving it"
A world with malaise
Instead of mayonnaise,
Next window please.

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