Mark's Used Parts

kicker Poem
Rennie Mcquilkin None

In come the wrecks to Mark’s
and out the gear knobs, gas tanks,
visors, radiators, speakers, mufflers, ash
trays, hoses, handles. Bins of parts.

The crummiest clunker is worth
Mark’s while. There’s an avenue
of front ends—Plymouths, Buicks,
a ‘49 Nash,

an alley of chassis,
a park of gutted bodies piled on
one another like lovers. Everything has
a future.

All of which is very gratifying,
a sign
of what we’ll amount to
in the after time.

The loosestrife will take this, the frog
that, creeks and clouds will value
our humus, the cardinal put us to use.
Dismantled, we’ll go far.

—Rennie McQuilkin