Date:         Mon, 15 Jun 1998 09:15:48 -0500
From: Phanny <corbett@AXA.SLU.EDU>
Subject:      [WRITERS] SUB: CONTEST: Under Glass (fwd)

Under Glass


Monday
in November,
in Tallahassee,
in the morning.
Your windshield is caked
with sticky fog
and the heavy sponge
of sky weighs down,
slows up the dirty white
municipal landscaping
truck that blocks
your progress, wire
rakes waving slow
goodbyes at yellow
lights.

The flock of pigeons
perched behind the grey
billboard--the empty
one, long peeled
of its messages--
do not fly up startled,
a living thundercloud.
They curl around themselves,
safe as television,
consider you with black
eyes, sit idle
as if no one were
waiting for them
at home.