main street

I came from far
away and brought
the eddings of me
and the odd tin sound.

just because the sculpture
was pure, it was you and me
and Iowa, grassland wind.

laid down, called and godless;
i love nothing more
pure then a single rose by eggs;
prove it.

cracked but clean but crooked;
you smile and I am 12 again before
my perfect suburban revolt;
i am metallic, and homely and love
is fair again.