NOLA's Nightcap

I drove the back

way back from the store,

refilled your cup

with boiled peanuts. Summerflea,

I need to be commended,

despite the wine glass

that threw itself

at your sister's head

of rollers. Imagine a pear

in the deli meat aisle,

ripening behind glass,

while at the Texaco station,

two women in nightclothes

sip hot drinks on the curb.

Seven in the morning,

watching for the blue sedan.