the christmas tree

you ask the man
how much
for that tree.
he looks at your
shoes, then at
the car you just
pulled up in.
I don't know,
he says, scratching
his chin, seventy
five dollars?
but it's only
two feet tall, you
tell him.
I want to put it
on a table.
it's a special tree
he says. it's hard
to get them to
stop growing
and remain small.
it's really a special
tree. he turns his back
and puts his hands
over a barrel of fire
that's near
the trailer where
his office is.
he takes out a bottle,
taking a swig,
then turns back around.
cough syrup, he says.
my doctor says that I
shouldn't be out here,
but my wife is sick
and the kids need
shoes. right you say.
how about ten dollars
for the little tree?
twelve? he says.
sure you say. do you
want me to strap it
on the roof for you?
nah, you say, i'll
put it up front
with me.