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Friday, November 25, 2005

Lunch in Marfa


Carmen’s

Every body packed right in for lunch
past an indelibly radiant yellow
pecan under a dry cerulean sky.

Red chili macho or brown chili gringo.
Was I the only one who saw what
happened when cheap lace curtains
met the noon sun and traced hearts
that shimmered on beige laminate?

Maybe every body who lived there knew
about the brilliant things done by
fall light and ceased notice, but
I was new there, even the woman with
the emerald parrot got my attention.

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