A Tale of a Hometown, Among Other Things

Fox 97 FM (rest in peace) was
the super model in the shit-covered truck stop bathroom.
Elegant yet worn: like the Volvo
rumbling down the road
yelling Aretha and The Temptations
to the little ones
who will never really understand
but will be damned if
they don’t round the corner of
Peachtree Drive and Peachtree Circle
to smack
the back of that ice cream
truck that never comes when
you expect it.  But then,
as you sit on the toilet
thinking about so-in-so’s stimulus
package and how it will affect
your play date with Billy
at three, you hear it.
It starts out soft.
That Doppler thing you learned
about in 8th grade is for some reason
all you can think about but
it doesn’t really matter because Mr. Doppler
did not come up with a way
to get the ice cream to
your location any
faster.
Goddamnit, I hated 8th grade.
That kid I made out with all
the time was too weird looking and needed chap stick like
we need the moon because what else would we talk about
on our way home?