Thursday, April 26, 2012

The Moment

If it was a fondly remembered second cousin
You’d seek her out
In a new suburb outside of Phoenix
Where she’d moved after college and
Settled into a four bedroom
Three bathroom
In a new development
Where the houses are so close together
That despite the utter lack of trees or
Anything besides houses that might cast shade
She can only see stars if one of her next door neighbors
Has the leading role in the big summer blockbuster and
She’ll only hear a tidbit she can share with the tabloids
In order to earn a little supplementary cash
If she turns off her air conditioner and opens a window and
As the two of you caught up on old times
In her sitting room
Despite the ten foot high ceilings
You’d be covered in sweat and
Neither it
Nor this
Would turn out to be a memorable one

No comments: