dcxxi

I was listening at a potluck
to hear if anyone was in love
and trying to figure out who
wished to sleep with whom
when the fireworks took off.
I opted for less flash,
simply looked off toward
the heart of the city, not the 

bay, nor the ocean,
but its residential areas

dimpled with streetlamps,
avenues and buses.
Mid-afternoon I walk
to Office Depot for
colored file folders,
out-of-office envelopes,
presentation binders,
and numbered index tabs.
When I get back to my desk
I turn on my little blue fan
because I’m sweating
through my pale green shirt.
Earlier we’d watched two movies
that exhibited nary a sign of life
and were somewhat enjoyable,
and then we drank margaritas.
Today’s flower is fire pink.