The yellow dress hits high above the tops of her knees,

blouse strapless, shoulders smooth,

breasts perfectly befitting a healthy

young woman just short of 30

balancing two elegant shopping bags

from an after-Christmas sale

in the shaded parking lot in a neighborhood

where all goes well along quaint narrow streets,

so happy to be out and about and smiling at

the handsome young man in the Porsche

who only a few hours before successfully

reaffirmed her womanhood and now smiles

at her striding long legged and proud across

bright painted yellow lines on five inch heels


In her time zone in Southern California it is exactly

2 p.m. on December 26, 2004, the very moment

his car radio announces a giant tsunami has just

remodeled the entire coastline of Sumatra


What more can be said except that she is pretty,

and laughs pretty and swoons pretty

and good for her, and “Oh Tony, turn

that goddamn thing off, will you?

I mean who really gives a shit?”

about a whatever itz called way the hell

out there in Africa or whatever-er land

on such a wonderfully groovy ass kickin’

afternoon in the United States of America