99poems/swings

Home.
Air conditioning
on. Shades down
on the sunny
side of the house.
“The station that
swings,” boasts
the radio.
I rarely listen
to the radio
anymore,
only the boom box
picks up stations.
I forget that
radio is something
that comes into
the house,
so I am only
perky and having
a good time
when I’m out
driving around.
Sometimes in summer
I like to dance,
in my short jean
skirt and tennis shoes,
in the kitchen
while I cook.
Sometimes in the
summer I don’t
cook at all,
but listen to
smultzy music
with the shades
pulled down.

7/9/99