The Millennium Issue:
Present
Teresa White
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The Mechanic
In the dry ice morning
the house over there looks lived in:
there's little doubt from all
that's strewn on porch and lawn --
the ruined bike, half-dozen waxy cups,
the untufted couch they all sit on.
Later, when the fog lifts,
the women will stagger after children
headed for the street in two and threes
to retrieve a chewed-up ball or eyeless doll
or just to test their mothers' voices
croaking from crack and cigarettes.
Their gaunt faces will chew stalks
of stringy hair, holler for the one man
who's never there except to slide
beneath a truck on blocks and turn
and spin each part
like a jeweler getting paid for it.
~Teresa White
Nominated for a Pushcart Prize, and published extensively in print and on the Internet, Teresa's second book of poetry is slated for completion this summer. Visit her home page or
email her.
© 2000 by Teresa White. All Rights Reserved.
© 2000-2002 by Cayuse Press. All Rights Reserved.
This page updated April 23, 2002.