I'm not a judge of suitable

from http://mike.noojournal.com

Several Years Since Darin Quit Smoking

We shush out after dinner to put gas
in the old Ranger for next week's trip.

Candy bars -- but they wreck my stomach.
Who keeps at this amazing Christmas

crud. Electric icicles, dancing candles?
Santa inflates and someone whistles,

which implies somewhere else
a faint shrug or frayed pillowcase.

Why does every big white truck
care that I drive twenty-five

home, past dog castles, decrepit
sirens, boxes from epic ez-chairs.

I don't much care for television,
despite its swim around my scalp,

and I'm driving for a little now
again. We've got gas. I forget that --