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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=579167" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Their Happenstance's Gold</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=579167" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Impoverished bodies- you roam, as wolves reintroduced<br>Themselves into your abandoned home: <br>Your wives, your daughter- forgotten and swimming inside<br>Pools, <br>And sloping down from there: canals, and canals-<br>Lost toys floating away-<br>Cenotaphs of conquistadors half dredged up- languidness of<br>Pain and broken chastity: <br>Girls on roller skates who once hoped to make their own<br>Music in the rain, <br>Now with scabbed knees, weeping weeping, head down<br>In the palmettos- taking sips form flasks of the<br>Half escaped dwarfs: <br>Latin graffiti on their broken down bodies- tattoos of never<br>Found boyfriends<br>And windmills: <br>And looking up there, funneling across the soccer field <br>That some poor Mexican just mowed: <br>More of the horror coming down the yard, souping up the song<br>Birds, killing away the hours, <br>Peeling away their innocent flowers, their happenstance’s gold.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Bret+R.+Crabrooke">Bret R. Crabrooke</a></strong></div>

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