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.]