Public Republic

Kenneth Pobo

Photo: angelandspot

I spread it thick on toast,
pour coffee, almost ready
to face crabby tourists, grabby
fishermen, snowmobilers
who blurt “Wanna take
a ride?” Later, for dinner,

probably alone, a Yooper pasty,
venison’s better than beef,
though mom says
the chicken’s best. And
dessert, pannukakku,
cardamom-flavored, you can’t

easily get these under the bridge,
that lower rag of Michigan
Uncle Jay says we should
secede from. It’s a day’s drive
to Detroit. Mars seems closer,

red through snowflakes,
solar system jam.