Man walks out of house.
Wife, arms akimbo, stands on porch.
Man stops at driveway’s edge,
roots through garbage bin.
Finds right loafer, slips it on left foot,
shuffles down street.
Wife does an about face,
goes inside, porch door slams behind her.
This is not a happy ending. Rather, this is a sad ending,
the culmination of failed aspirations and dashed hopes,
the final story family lore, that is the story about the chinchilla ranch,
one that will be told and retold, at every family gathering.
The matchbook cover said “Raise them in your spare time,”
but neglected to say where. The basement was the logical choice,
that is until the new comers escaped and took up residence in the pantry.
Wife’s screams were heard for miles around.
No coat, gloves, hat for her, rather quiet nights, home alone,
this preferable to the sound of rodents chewing on baseboards.
Next: 34. 2/3/15: Making Connections?