Hour 5–Soot

The smell I remember:

It smelled like what it was

a burned down bowling alley

hauled to our end of town

dumped at the edge of the swamp

behind our grade school

blackened possibilities

bursting in all directions

We scavenged like hungry avengers

amazed at these abandoned treasures

ours for the snatching

Oh Fortune!

Oh Providence!

A crumpled candy machine

full of melted goo

yielded coins

Bowling pins


Black balls

valiant casualties

Wonders unimaginable

plastic in fantastic shapes

A drinking fountain!

We pulled out its electric motor and hauled it home

It ran

and once again

a smidgen of

Post Bowling alley

came back to life






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