Hometown Blues

“Is it permitted...?”
I thought to ask
- then recollected:
Better if I say “Is it okay...?”

The others, brawny
with laundry, know
they may bleach. And how.
Plus spells to close doors.
I’ve been away

where public sudsing’s
done by pints and
pence, or it’s birra
for lire. And fast food’s
toast with pate.

Bistro to DQ
this border shift
dwarfs the wee hitch when
bon leaps to buono.
I meant to stay

but drive these streets by
heart, in exile;
in fear of WalMart;
never more homesick
than here, today.

©2000, 2011 Katherine Anne Harris. All Rights Reserved.

Back to Poetry Index