Gummy Auction

after, crowds swayed, parted with money,
sent scattered hopes home for nurturing.
and we were left with tables,
no one else bidding
for oak’s heft, most craving the lightness
of futons made in Italy;
sitting there, harrumphing our pleasure,
we lifted and leaned wood against the truck,
checking undercarriages for gum’s remains,
chipping away at Blackjack and Tutti-Frutti,
nudging Fleer’s Double-Bubble
to oblivion. but best were the carvings
of love, table-tops not marred by ugly
grotesques, but stealth proven honorable,
each stroke a heart, each name
faithful: John hearts Mary,
Juicy loves Crumpet;
those love affairs
from 1946 so real,
their obituaries
never registered the staleness of
Doublemint.