90

       i.m. Henry Darger

I've wrapped a rubber car-rack strap (like a winebarrel)
around the splitting dogwood now, so it might survive.
Here in Providence, like many an average middling burg,
you sort of, you know, make do with what you have.

Midwinter spring is its own season. But
we haven't had much snow here anyway this year--&
it's not as though that's going to make us all jump for joy.
In fact some of us could have just come from the morgue.

Why that is--I'll tell you the reason.
In this little town we all look vaguely familiar--
but not so familiar that we're gonna hail-fellow-well-
met everybody! Which foot forward? We're never quite sure.

It's just a local variation on the principle of the shroud.
We're in disguise. It rains a lot. We're under a constant cloud.

                                Providence
                                1.20.97

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Henry Gould | Island Road 91
Contents | Mudlark No. 6