American Flamingo March 18, 1996

It's like the American Flamingo

who has made it's home

on the front lawn of every other trailer

in every trailer park

from Atlantic to Pacific

It's like the still reddening nose

of Grandma or Grandpa

who resides inside

Or maybe these swollen hand and toed hero's

have no family to anote them

with a title so feverishly used among

white trash up the rungs

to aristocrats

Maybe these vessel less folks

are just a container

for alcohol induced urine flow

Maybe, baby

those velvet paintings

of the only true king they've ever known

bring them more joy than

the unfastening of any bottle

of Kentucky straight bourbon

Maybe there is a diamond in the ruff

in the tornado starting

sardine graveyard

These diamonds might come from

the bottom of the box of Cracker Jacks

pulled by a sticky faced kid

and discarded after

their novelty has faded

Maybe the sign next to the

neon Budweiser sign says

diamonds a dime a dozen

In all likely hood these diamonds

were set in the

engagement rings of prison

or the tennis bracelets of war

or in the most popular of all pieces

the diamond pennet of

blue collar chain gangs

These icy rocks were never scrutinized

by jeweler called teacher

or jeweler named Sargent, officer, or president

But swept under a ruff rug

and given a gun shop

a liquor store

a hustler

and a local pub

with local people, with local interest's

to locate one another.

But me the cat burglar

I am planning a caper

with no goat scaper

and no morning paper

A diamond heist to improve, to improve American life