[…]


Richard Jordan

Summer, 1971


My aunt said Freddy had been
captured by salamanders.

Most of the older boys were away
and the President was not himself.

Choppers hid in the elm trees at dusk.
I learned to like the many sounds

of Cracker Jacks in my head
during the evening news.

They found Cousin Freddy at the edge
of a swamp.  Orange salamanders

were sleeping under his coat.
It made sense later.

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