david jewell poet

words. photos. images. whatnot.

at the barbecue

no comment

The barbecue
out behind the nitro-glycerine factory
where the kids were playing
with dynamite sticks,
well,
it seemed to me
there was a bit of tension
in the air––

and Betty and I were bickering
again.
Finally, it rained,
and everyone had to go home.

I asked Betty
what we were fighting about––
she took a deep breath,
then started laughing,
and said she couldn’t remember
either.

When we got home we noticed,
that in spite of the rain,
our house had burned down
while we were out.

Don’t worry about it, said Betty,
this gives us a good excuse
to stay at that posh hotel downtown,
or maybe
get out of town altogher.
Why not?

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