Stop fooling with the dials, (she
was harvesting the color) he bit
into his wife's ears. They were
watching Bonanza and making a
molehill out of a mountain.
Hoss smiled sunny-side-up; a lady
stood on the steps of the front of
the Saloon. She was nakedly framed in
tight jeans and sweater.
Stop it, I said,
he slapped her ass.
Up the street
an aluminum-pile robot marched: heel
toe, heel toe. A baby riled top of
the square-spiral staircase. Mommy
looked alarm-struck and left her husband
straining.
A peck of neighborhood kids
threw stones through the front window.
Papa ate his potato salad with a fork,
his eyes fluxed on the crew-cut screen.
