THE FIRST NICE DAY OF THE SEASON

Sweep the household cleavage,
Hang fresh custodies
In the wings, for
Helpful Fathers, drifter-types.
Put on a new drier
And come with me!
The season’s changing,
More embarrassment to come!

I know you’re a skeptic,
But look at the elm-tree,
Its little loaves
of sweetbread smells
Stinking up the sky!

Sorry if I scream, though
Who shall hear of us
In time to come?
Let them say there was
A businessman of certain stripe
Selling black brasseries,
Bush-barrell babies,
Fragrant as brandy-wine.

Jack Sullivan is a poet, playwriting, and filmmaker based in Brooklyn, NY. Some of his poems can be in found in Yes Poetry, In Parentheses, and Firefly Magazine.