The Stings that Harried

Leaves swirl between cars
raving stems clarifying asphalt:
this is gum grit, a thumb-spit
sticking out over the dry bed
swallowing the squall's rancor
appalled by the tankard, emptier
and emptier, held to the lips
of a person whose person
emanates the terrors and failures
of years that don't seem to pass.