shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Judith Waller Carroll


No account drifter

snaps off our mothers' tongues
like sheets on a line.
A boy named Joe.
He rode in on the Greyhound.
He stays at the boarding house
just off Main.
We flutter like moths
to the broad steps of the porch
hoping for a glimpse
of the world.