New haircuts and

registering for the draft

a night sky brighter than the

neon signs below it

a sibling rivalry in a family of blue.

 

A fill up is sky high and

back seat’s full of friends

we’ll park and walk the fest

see the neighborhood girls

until the recession ends

then we’ll venture further out

that is

unless the Russians drop the bomb

now that they are an evil empire and

we are losing the arms race

to a country with empty shelves.

 

Meet me on the corner

we’ll walk beneath the Italian lights

like it’s Christmas in July

and nothing can fall from the sky

but snow.

The squeezebox man will sing

the old songs for us and

we’ll dance real close

under the lighted canopy

hidden away

from satellites’ sight.

 

–Danny Grosso