Kite Flying

I like the silver one, she said
pointing to the Japanese frog
shimmering on its back
above the Ghirardelli Chocolate sign.
Her eyes were green
she hunted bears every Christmas
with her husband and their two kids.
Last summer they took a trip to Yellowstone for trout.
In the fall he threw her out.
She moved to Kansas City
and married a teacher she’d met in Washington on a salmon boat.

Summers are best on the bay.
I like the way the wind kicks back and the yo-yo
hucksters walk-the-dog
and do around the world for the tourists.
There’s always someone swimming,
the little red skull-caps bobbing through the short swells
just inside the mouth of the harbor.

I’ve been back six months
got a cheap flat
no job
thought about being a fireman but found I was too old.

Aquatic Park’s one of the few places to fly kites.
There are hundreds to buy
I like the dragon that breathes fire and dances on his tail.
The salesman’s got it about as high as it’ll go
I want to turn it loose
he laughs and says it’s too expensive
I say fuck it
and pay 8 bucks
to cut the god-damn cord.