The ad above the urinal in the Toot’n Totum
in Dalhart, Tx read JJ’s fruit pies, 2 for $2.
To say there was dissonance in that moment
would be understatement, so even though
yes, a steal of a deal on fruit pies, no, no thanks.
Yet as I drove away bladder happy I wondered
if that was a sign, a message from the universe
that I should’ve seized upon and snagged 2 for $2?
Even at my advancing age, it’s still hard to know.
Days later, leaving my driveway at 4:30am there
they stood, seven deer and a buck smack dab in
the middle of cul-de-sac suburbia, grazing intently
on what little is left of grass and Aspen. Their eyes
in the pre-dawn unsettled me—dissonance again.
I idled in the middle of the street, staring hard at
each one again wondering “Is this some kind of sign?”
If I spoke in the tongues of deer I’d have asked them,
but I don’t. So I slowly left them to their business.
How exactly does one parse the dissonances of life,
these encounters in place that are slightly out of place?
I wish I had a good answer for you, a way to know,
but I don’t. I guess it’s best to pause at the urinal or in
the cul-de-sac or wherever the harmony breaks rank
momentarily and give attention to these oddities that
in the end may simply have been odd but then again
may have been dispatches from beyond, via deals and
deer, stuffed in the cracks of our wailing walls of life.