Rehobeth Remembered

How I miss
Steamy, summer
DC, Friday afternoons
Skip out of
Our cubicles
At lunchtime
To our favorite café
(Two glasses of white wine
A house salad, oil and vinegar on the side
No bread please)
And plan our weekend galas
We’re off the clock
The afternoon breezes by

By sundown the bosses
Are on their way
To weekend fetes
Put on to impress
Comrades and cronies
Stuck in the tragedy of
Insufficient accrued
Vacation time

Not for them the gay Bacchanalia
The planning and execution
Of a riotous trip
Through the hot city
Across the peninsula
Down to the bay
With it’s cool silver water

We’re first to make it to the bridge
All traffic’s behind us
They left too late
Hurried and worried about
The weather report

The whole hot rat race
Behind us as we fly
Towards our goal
Stopping only to
Relieve ourselves
If our bladders can’t hold on
Or to refill the tank
And grab another bottle
Of rot gut champagn
Which we polish off
In no time flat

Got to get to the traffic circle
By seven o’clock
We’re losing time Goddamnit
There’s the first produce stand
Don’t stop now
Catch it on the way back

Sitting pretty
Riding high
Night turns stormy
Lightening flashes
Try to out run the squall
But it hits hard
Taking away any
Time we’ve gained
By being the first in the pack

Wipers slap at
Driving rain
In a metronomic synchronous
Tuneless refrain
Wop wop
Wop wop
Wop wop

Rainwater dashes over the car
A tidal wave
Reminding us to beware
Mother Nature
May not want us to make it to
The beach this night

There’s the turn off
Missed it again damn it all
Happens every time
But now we’re back on the road
Nearly there
Smell the ocean
Pungent marshes
Salty breezes
Heaven’s scent
There’s the ocean
At the end of the street
Cheep hotel
Weekend rates
Bags out
Room’s the same
As last time
Nothing matters
But getting to the sea
Feet in sand
Chest out
Head back
Eyes to the brilliant
Night sky
Wave rushes in
Bathes feet
Sore from too much
City hard life

Kms 1/07