Two Poems from Rustin Larson

North of Oxford

.Slap.

It was confusing.  It’s

like getting on the wrong

bus and arriving at the

wrong school.  It will take

a morning of frantic phone

calls for your mom to find

you.  And then you still

might get a slap.

.

Well, it’s October now and I

still don’t care about baseball.

.

I feel maybe someone will give

me cartoonist trouble, holding

my life together with aspirin

and duct tape.  The fish

of words will swim through all

the paper.  Thanksgiving

is exactly the same up there,

except in October, and they

are still loyal to the Queen.

It’s like getting on the wrong

bus and arriving at the wrong

school.

.

Now, I have a handful of

believers.  The globe shakes

its oceans off onto the table,

and it is a wonder we

construct mail boxes out of

milk cartons; we send each

other Halloween greetings…

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