Some Saturday Poem by Katrina Harms

garage sale
teeshirts
i like how they're
sweated through
already
smog sun-sational
i watch you
undressing your guitar,
kissing its skin
with wind-chapped lips
i feel it all-
gravel, gravestones, gravity-
leaking through the holes
in my chucks
(i don't have more than a
crinkled buck on my body)
fat swings against bra straps
fanned osteoporosis nested under
a faded awning
a dog yawn-
You can buy some
strings for $2
so you do- in dimes
i'm overheating
in your '91 smile
cellulite meets sunlight i blink
hating ghetto houses with
california lawns-
switch of a lighter,
your hand fondling fender
hips,
6 strings not struggling
under your love-plucked
grips
My sweat is pooled
in with the sweat from
my teeshirt's former owners- i'm alone now,
soles strapped to the
silent gig
that is the room
we're standing in-
Your eyes gaze from
the sun shadow
dust to a
musty emptiness
i know i'll never
know.
I know our eyes will
never meet-
i'll throw a dollar at your
feet