I stood on the sidewalk in overshoes with intricate clasps
and marveled at the huge orange road graders
marshaled into service during that winter of nincompoops.
Gunsmoke filled the air - an opening scene
replayed again and again
by tens of thousands of Fanner 50s -
as he launched into yet another mealtime crusade
threatening to bring down the house.
The shoot-‘em-up was sandwiched between
Felix the Cat and the Tons of Fun.
My grandmother had given me the money
from a glass jar on the dresser in her bedroom.
I dumped it onto the ice and counted out the coins
down to the last Lincoln penny
as he watched from behind his unfiltered Philip Morris.
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| The Ton of Fun |