Street Cars

It was winter. the snow might have been black. Pittsburgh was very dirty then, filthy they said - you had to change your shirt after you walked outside. You were perpetually marked with a black stain, a ring around your neck..
A shroud of death pulled over his mothers face when he was five. black crepe paper ribbon hung on the door alerting the neighbors that death had visited and so could they.
the warmth of alcohol descended upon his father though sometimes it meant there was no money for black coal to put in the stove to warm the remnants of the family
the white uniform of a cook clothed his aunt, who went out and worked for rich families who gave her their left-overs, their cast-off clothing
the black and white keys of a piano sat in a silent row untouched
was there touch of any sort going on?
he ran up and down the hill with a sled. pale skinned, red cheeked, blue eyed, a shock of black hair. up and down, up and down
lately down was all he had known, the piano sat silent
the singing had ended
unless it was late at night and the songs had turned drunk, mournful, and bitter
a taste to be spat out
it hurt his ears as he tried to sleep
he ran towards the top of the hill gathering speed
the valley spread out before him, he dove onto the sled
triumphant in the moment body met wood a perfect fit
arms aligned with the protruding steerer of the sled
cold air rushed down his throat, and up his nose, stung his eyes
he forgot to stop
he forgot to jump off
instead the sled dived under the low belly of a street car
bells were ringing
we can not hear if he screamed, cried for help, panicked
we can imagine him holding his breath trying to make himself smaller
like he did every night in bed hoping to disappear
a dent in the sheets
instead of a gaping mouth to feed

we see his mouth in a wide open 'O'�
as he emerges unharmed from the other end
of the streetcar
triumphant

I see the empty box marked 'street cars'�
his favorite shoes he bought them on sale
black boats, he had huge feet with hammertoes
the streetcars felt like he was gliding he said
the empty box full of holy cards and prayer books
I want to put them in his open coffin

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