lets place a dime next to our plates
to tell us where the chatter stops
when the words get hard as the waterwhen I drove a station wagon
in the streaked water glass.
I could stop on a dime
back in the day
to the store,a trail of tread
behind me showing me
every light I skirted.
It was your skirt that turned my head
when I stopped for a paper,
fingering the dashboard ashtray
for a dime.
All those screaming headlines
never stopped coming,
the news didn't change
when we married
after months of talking aboutcurrent events as we ate
Asian take out.
Today I drive
nothing but trivial paths,
you are the keeper of the dimes
and the traction i
in the tread of my shoes,
I sing your name
when I buy a paper,
you are the music
the headlines never had.