I remember hearing mothers say
they don’t know how their sons developed
this mania for trucks
and trains and diggers
but my son beams
with the same ardor
and if I crouch down beside him
let my mouth hang open
just a bit
the same awe crawls in
and I see that the garbage truck
is irresistible
with that greedy arm
chugging garbage
like a happy drunk
which makes me wonder only
what I ever saw
in those small
mute dolls.
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