, , ,

He twirls the keys around his fingers

and then throws them in the air

the rubber in the air lingers

as he winks at his au pair

his younger brother throws up his hand

to give props to his father’s heir

the woman from marsh farm land

where dutch painting line the streets

came to this shore with marijuana sand,

where babies drink from designer teets

and they punish dark malingers

and shun each others sweets