Beautiful Things

Just some flash poetry for you...straight off my tricky brain to you.

Beautiful Things

Black tar,
Batman blanket,
elephant rooms,
dark circles,
utterly useless
caffeine.
Meet me in the Wal-Mart boy section.
As a kid
you napped 
in the baby
pool. Blue
and white striped --
your wrinkled
T-shirt, faded by sun and wash and sweat.
Maybe you dreamt
of a yellow slide,
a thick towel,
a sharp crowd,
and wide open,
thick-lipped mouths with coated tongues.
Perhaps you saw
a speed boat,
a winning race,
an American flag,
hidden behind
the blue and yellow. Shouting, shouting.
Announcement -- 
I uncovered
the truth --
suddenly, 
I smile, sucking down mashed potatoes.
Mac and cheese
make me sick.
Back in the day,
Marcie and I
played straight through dual chicken pox.
We made pasta
from the box.
Once, I sent you
a piano song about all of the beautiful things.
Through
the screen,
and through
my chest, I heard you whisper, Me too.
This summer,
every ridiculous
suit is on sale, and charcoal strips are facials. 
I would
drive there,
minus inflation. Yesterday, I couldn't help myself.  
I confess
I cheated on the animals. Through the screen,
and through
my chest, I heard you say, Me too. I was madly
licking butter.
 
C.A. MacConnell