S(hit) P(ot) Tallman/Stanley Philo Tallman
The old man turned,
His back a scar,
No more would he repair our car.
…out of Vermont’s frigid green mountains to a foggy iver city,
Easier it was than twice-a-day milking,
He opened a garage,
Welding gas tanks’ holes ….
Cigars, cigarettes, lit,
He never blew himself up.
Other devils took him ….
“Look at my back,
One more operation and I’m gone.”
He died before that operation.
Rust encased the garage, cars and gas tanks.
Eugene “Gene” Novogrodsky, date uncertain, and late December 2013