Jake's Flea Market

someone   anyone   look
look where the baby’s at

i know the neighbor wants
someone to like her too and you can pitch
yourself to her like a used car   
later   you can pitch yourself like a vacuum cleaner    
like a set of pots and pans but not
right now

didn’t   anyone   hear
that first sound like a thunder
rumble in the far away a few
minutes ago doesn’t   anyone   hear
that rumble like a rockslide grow
and grow closer and closer

you   can   admire
the neighbor’s opinions   later 
admire them like they’re hung 
from clothes hangers on sallyann racks to be tried on   
checked for fit in a mirror and worn   
once but not   right now

doesn’t   anyone   see
the baby climb the embankment to exhaustion
on pudgy little hands and pudgy little knees and white
leather baby boots toward the coming
clickityclackityclickityclackityclickityclackity
sound punctuated by a whistle   a bell   a horn

someone   anyone   tell me
he doesn’t even wake