Selling Ice Cream in the Cemetery

Selling ice cream in the cemetery
In the late September afternoon
The gaudy sound of “Pop Goes the Weasel”

Chasing heat tails across the green, green lawn
Where the immigrant children play
In lieu of the park that isn’t here
Hide and seek amongst the headstones

And the death of summer is, itself
Lingering in the air

The greasy man
In the ancient brightly painted truck
Sells fifty cents worth of ice cream
For two dollars

Money that was earned
Almost as hard as can be
But spent by the children of laborers
Like it was water in a fountain

Selling ice cream in the cemetery
And buying the American Dream



About anthonyuplandpoetwatkins born in Jackson, The United States August 04, 1959 gender male website genre Poetry, Historical Fiction influences James M. Lancaster, Brenda Black White, Gertrude Stein, William Carlos Williams, and Al Filreis member since March 2011 About this author edit data As one of the most public lives ever lived by a private citizen, there is little about me that isn't already available at Facebook or Shelfari and countless other places. Poet, writer, construction worker, salesman, truck driver, climber into the attics of total strangers, father and husband, and all around one of the luckiest men on the planet. My luck continued with a win in the June Goodreads Newsletter Contest! What an honor! http://anthonyuplandpoetwatkins.wordp... Additional Influences: Bob Dylan, William Faulkner, Barbara Kingsolver, Gloria Naylor, Eudora Welty
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