Wingnut’s Joke

Under the low ceiling in the big room,

On a dance floor hemmed in by round folding tables,

Fleetwood loomed lovingly

Over raven haired, busty Fiona,

She the pivot of his slow circles.

Sticking to a molded plastic chair,

Danny admired the slimmer Aggie.

She was much prettier than Fiona, he thought,

And the red head bartender

He flirted with while he got their drinks.

A fog of cigarette smoke swirled slowly near the ceiling.

Through the bay window behind the band,

Moaning through “Color My World,”

The oily dark Clyde glistened.

“Daniel J. Paradise!”

Danny tore his eyes from the rapturous Aggie.

Wingnut stood over the table

With arms wide, cheesy smile, and crooked teeth, he said

“How long’s it been?

How’s the wife and kids?”

In dramatic fashion he noticed Aggie.

“Oh. You’s with somebody.

Aint none of my business.

I got to run.

My little something on the side is waiting.”