The Wrens I Married Sonja

a rain of fast years and times whipped done me whipped good
this very treatment’s beaten / this very world way’s bush whacked
most bachelor uncles into marrying men
labor day 1930 / they darken dane pavilion
pushing reluctant millions / from innocents to tangle men
i shrine the good past / to polished perfect locket
i carry and stare into / wallow around in
while soon to be ghosts / and pretty tributes look in
their wasted time turned
back flast with thoughts of woman a trip sleep prayer for winning
don’t look at me son / with my doings undone and my bushes bending