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Poem: Pine Bush Blues 

"This town's known for UFO sightings,"

he says between our calculations.

"There's a diner on the corner

that's called The Cup and Saucer."

I stare through the fractions

stamped on my tape measure;

stare through the apprentice

fumbling through our Trade.

"I dated a girl who worked there,"

I tell him, boiler room sweat

stopped by my eyebrows.

"Did she believe in aliens?" he asks.

The Kid's a year older

but he's got a lot to learn.

"She believed in someone

more far-fetched."

I grin like a burglar

immune to the Universe

and pull another trigger

that only revs the band saw.

Speaking of...

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  • A poem by Mike Vahsen.


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