Dairy Queen


My husband has a new name for me
he calls me
THE DAIRY QUEEN.

I can’t believe it, he like–psychic!

So the other day I’m driving to a Poetry Slam
which I got tickets for a month in advance
because it’s the grand slam FINALS
and so far I have been real lucky
somehow I always manage to get parking right in front
which is UNHEARD OF
AND so I drive up like usual and it’s EARLY
and the parking spot is taken
and I’m thinking SHOOTS,
which is the way they talk here in Hawaii,
and say to Misty my friend sitting next to me
guess we’ll have to hunt for another spot
when the car that’s in that spot, in front,

the back lights light up, it backs out and IT LEAVES
AND
I shake my head
and I say to Misty,
“OMG- Can you believe it
my husband’s right again
my shit really is
ice-cream!”

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