H
e a r t S o n s & H e a r t D a u g h t e r s of A l l e n G i n s
b e r g
N
a p a l m H e a l t h S p a : R e p o r t 2 0 1 4 : A r c h i
v e s E d i t i o n
JAMES RUGGIA
Sunshine State
Twenty three
years of New York cop stands in the door of a
Florida trailer,
his t-shirted gut lit submarine green by sun
through a fiber glass awning. He goes to the Sear’s recliners, the
ice in his Diet Coke rattling as he watches
Divorce Court. The
fading dice of his foreman’s tattoo dry quickly
under frigid
gusts of air conditioning. Shiny strands of hair form a point
high on his forehead. Jowls of grey dough bunting hang from
cheek
to chin. Between divorces, a woman scrubs her kitchen with superb
cleanser.
He adjusts the direction of his vents, sits back and
searches his nails for crud.
[Originally
published in NHS 1996, http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs96/index.html#13.]