POEM: EVERYONE IS COMING TO THE BACK FENCE

Everyone is coming to the Back Fence:
All the brilliant children
who do not care about syntax and cadence.
Everyone is coming to the Back Fence:
All the lusty old folks
up upon whom the ghost has not given.
Everyone is coming to the Back Fence:
All the middle-aged men and women
who are in transition
in this transitory culture -
on this transient planet
made of invincible matter.

Everyone is coming to the Back Fence,
because the Front Gate
is gilt with good intention,
but sticky from the detritus
that clings to the blood of martyrs.
Everyone is coming to the Back Fence,
because we had to lock the Side Door
to guard against repeated robbery:
we confound the kind of crook
who would steal the vowels
from a welcome mat,
or the letters from a mail box -
Everyone is coming to the Back Fence.

Everyone is coming to the Back Fence
to get American Sushi from Good-Time Charlie,
and crunch the shells in sawdust.
Everyone is coming to the Back Fence
to reflect on the tortured puns
that pour like timeless precepts
from the man in the dun fedora.
Everyone is coming to the Back Fence
to meet Colleen and Kali,
whose pretty eyes tear
at the mention of Sweet Jack Kerouac
or Sour Old Gregory Corso.

Don't you dare say "Been there." or "Done that."
Don't you dare say anything
unless and until your name is called.
Everyone is coming to the Back Fence.