Things Like That
Don't Happen Here
June 18 2013


Could never imagine
anything like that

happening here,

said the slow-talking man
to the man with the microphone,

as yellow police tape
snapped in the wind.
The camera loved
the old man in over-alls,
flannel shirt
buttoned all the way up.

Doors never locked,
but firmly closed
curtains drawn.
Where we know each other's secrets
but no one talks.
And in the middle of nowhere
how a human body
is so easily lost.

It was all anyone buzzed about
for weeks,
glancing over our shoulders
uncomfortably.
Then conveniently forgot
when the whole brouhaha
about the mayor's affair
with the city clerk
came out of nowhere.
Caught
in flagrante delicto.

Busybodies
gossiping.
While all the rest
felt a cold sweat 
sudden heat,

nodding

disapprovingly.