goings on in the neighborhood

holy Mary mother of god,

known by her nickname: blessed virgin Mary,

was seen flying her kite

near the left field fence yesterday.

she seemed to be really good at it

tugging the main-string, pulling

her kite southward toward Marzilli’s bakery

then northward toward the billboards.

the kite’s tail looked to be a raccoon's tail

plucked from her only son’s Davy Crockett hat.

(I had one, too. tail attached)

she gets away with murder, that one.

nothing’s happening today, except

Joe the cop forgot his service revolver

and had to skedaddle home to fetch it before

some busybody noticed and squealed.

well, I noticed. but I learned through certain

innocent bystander situations how to keep my mouth shut.

let these introductions serve to inform you on how I came to be a poem-writer.