Remember neighbor’s yards: sharp overgrown
All jut and jab through chainlink gray-glint fence;
Or placid matted greens and dust-brown tones—
Belike your own, old Mark—whose shag basement
Did spill upon white clean square concrete slab,
Whose pebbly-crumbling drive’s end now escapes
My sun-on-smog reconstruct photo-lab.
A shed? Garage? Empty weedcrossed estate?
The magnet debacle, clear summer sun.
Cops, Robbers; Cowboys, Indians; days on the run.