the big flea market extravaganza

i unfold my long table

and set it up in the yard

for the big flea market sale.

it's a yearly thing

in the neighborhood.

i bring out a chair

some lemonade

and cookies for the kids.

it's basically the same things

i tried to sell last year.

marked down

fifty cents or so.

i have a clock that doesn't tick,

any more but

makes bird noises if you shake it.

there's a black pair

of pants from a rented tuxedo

on a hangar

and a box of bent forks

and spoons

i tried to use as tools,

some cracked beer mugs,

a few old wedding rings

and bars of packaged soap

from the Hilton Hotel,

a rusted colander and

a pair of brown shoes,

without laces.

on an easel, i stand up

an old portrait of five

dogs playing poker.

then place

a worn copy of Franny

and Zooey,

not signed, of course,

next to a book called

Tips for a Healthy

Marriage, unused,

basically brand new.

it's going to be a long

day, so

i apply sunscreen liberally

all over me.

the sun can be brutal in

the late afternoon