Watch Out Ireland

There in the tracks
like slugs slowly melting--
the June-rain sidewalk;
the pouring of salt--

reside my gentle misspellings
of your name
that beg no correction...

Mother, forgive us:
We've become straphangers.

Jack chased Jill
right up that hill
to fetch a better lawyer.
They've waived their rights
on the dotted line.
No docking fees.
It's over.

I know it's a verse
that I've fed you before
but it's not a mistake;
it's a promise:
Someone declared
Every Man for Himself
and we've all paid the price
ever since.

That one with the lisp
and the tick in his neck's
picking his teeth before batting cleanup.
He'll hunt down all of the witnesses
leaving the rhythm for fools.

It's not here, Bailey.
The reasons, the words.
Call off the search
for the night, for the month
and peel off the page of your calendar.