Ed

I first saw Ed
hanging at Nicollet Isle
on his wedding day, 

oven-hot.

The hippie couple hit the wall,
turned middle class,
and were looking good.

I stood in the bridal house
on that sweet day,
sweating in the inferno,
scotch in one hand, beer in the other.

Every man knew,
and I did too,
Ed was making my sister happy.

My Ed.