back in the day, was a cat named Dave Ross
used to come ‘round to Yella Dove with fresh
cut grass – no one was ever sure if he grew
it in his greenhouse over by Quincy
or in some nearby field, but it was either
that or his ice-fishing expeditions
to Canada – anyway, they called him
Dave-the-one-hit-wonder; he was mythic
for his whiskey stamina, but when it
came to puffing smoke he was so lightweight
he’d reel from a good deep toke off the bat
as long as it was his grass in the dugout.
we heard in ninety-one the DEA
caught him somewhere in south Minnesota.

copyright April 2022, DM Pitchford