In the window by the mailbox
three wolves howl despair
where those babies lived
D'you remember, d'you?
No? maybe it wasn't there ...
But late afternoons when
two moons frequent the low sky
I find myself slowing as I walk by
there or over to the store
to pick up day old bread
Cause that's when it goes on sale
and so do the cakes - the big ones
For just five bucks - who can resist
a whole cake for just five bucks?
Even when things are bad
a five dollar cake makes things better
Doncha think? That's what the old man
used to tell us after he beat the crap
out of mamma and then each one of us
That was before the wolves—
before the babies also
come to that—
But those memories
run together like eggs over easy
with the yolks not settled right...
Prompt inspiration:dVerse Poets-Poetics-Undercurrents w/Manicdaily