A Day in the Village
A Day in the Village
Old ladies hang the fascist
Laundry from the balconies.
A man grabs by the neck
His wayward son’s guitar.
The poor cat, pregnant again,
Slinks off to go into labor.
A car pulls into the square,
Makes a three-pointed turn,
Leaves. Later, the old ladies
Admit they have no idea
Who on earth that was.