Jake's Flea Market

Years ago, I submitted this poem to Pif Magazine for publication: They published only the first half of it. I wasn’t happy with the ending either; and for thirty years I tried to make a more satisfying ending for the poem, without success. Today, with more experience in reading and writing poems, it occurs to me to use the words that construct the beginning of the poem to help determine the words to use later in the poem. Words should be related to each other.

once upon a time
when time was large i crawled
small between melvin and billy in the back
seat of the family

dad drove
drunk while mom argued
directions from a map that crashed the car
far from any road

i limped
out of the fog of morning
into the sun fall of day and thought 
i’d left the wreck behind

but in a small
hour of the late afternoon
sober and without a map i drive 
my own dents and broken headlights that i’m afraid 
to turn onto the highway