gina engst

The world is gradually becoming a place
and after that first line it all reads sad.
I heave my troubles on my boy, my lad
  when he, thru the back window
of the house, that backyard space
the rusted mix of condiments, america's favs
dabbled the tool shed
toolshed

I scored a whopping 98
highest in the class, I sold it
at the end of the year showing
to the school librarian for $200
My painting teacher, Ms Kunin
said it was a fair price.

Everyone thought she was a bitch.
She put all my shit together in time for
my interview for university,
and has since retired I heard.

Still, further back, Gina Engst.
Always indebted --
I ate my first Thanksgiving at her house on Ronin
I mean, Rorer St.
I tasted turkey and sparkling
grape for the first time.
Her boyfriend was a heavy-built Latino man.
She had two daughters
one of them snatched her t-square away
when I inquired its shape.

I tried finding her, she left a number to my sister to me which
I had lost and since then couldn't do anything about it.
The ribbon seems to be losing its ink!
What fate! what comedy!
GINA! GINA! GINA! GINA! GINA!
GINA! GINA! GINA! GINA! GINA! GINA!
MS ENGST MS ENGST MS ENGST MS ENGST MS ENGST MS ENGST MS ENGST MS ENGST