a thick arm or two leaned on and out of car door windows
and told her to purr like a kitten, so maybe she taught herself
the lollipop lady, sweet as anything, like ferry to the other side
keep your loose change in your shoes, she purrs like an engine
why lollipop? says short stuff on the kerbside one day, kicking
sour peaches. cause all of them are sweet i suppose, but maybe
it’s the shape. short stuff picks up another, sour peach, hurls it
at the boy who stole her loose change, knocks him off of bike
down street rolling like her laughter out her belly. she laughs
like a sour old man and purrs for the lollipop lady. for a long time,
though it would get her, sweets, treats and sugar things. it doesn’t.
sleeping in the siege 