OBSERVATIONS ON A YARDSAILING TRIP
By David Allen
Sitting in the car
While my wife examines
Yard Sale treasures,
I jot down words
I hope become a poem.
Earlier, we drove by a young man
Walking down the street
With both hands inside
The front of his pants,
Which sagged below his waist.
Couldn’t he afford a belt?
Faded American flags
Hang in front of homes
In sore need of a
Fresh coat of paint.
I am writing this
In a notebook
I bought in Japan.
On the cover it states,
“It is our hope
That this item will
Become your good friend
And help make your life
Enjoyable all the time.”
I hope it does.
I stay in the car
While my muse barters
With the Yardsellers.
I work crossword puzzles
To fill the time when
Writer’s block stalls
The poem’s progress.
Maybe a word up or down
Will fill the blanks.
Suddenly, my wife
Excitedly opens the car door
And shows me a “find.”
“Look at this forgotten treasure,”
She says. “Cost a dollar.”
It is a copy of the first book
Ever published by Simon and Schuster
“A Cross Word Puzzle Book.”
I’m puzzled it is for sale
And not on some rare books list.
Well, you may think
This poem doesn’t
Make any sense.
That’s okay
Give me two pennies
And it will.
Type Dancing 