More (or less) Adventures

by Joseph D. Reich


wow the apples
have already fallen
and a porch light still
on from the night before


you drive through
town with a sly grin
and cracked safe
in the back of
your pickup


while aristocrats
are busy ignoring
everyone; a part of
their makeup and rituals
and aerobics and religion


the blushing beautiful wives
demurely flirting with you
knowing exactly what’s
going on, man i love
when shit like
that happens!


(getting ready for the ball
and never to be seen
from or heard from again)


through the cracked window
of a farmhouse there’s one of
those marathon square dances
with phantoms from the graveyard


your escape
hot-air balloon
stuffed in the garage.


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