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to be there, don’t you think?”
The church isn’t far as
the crow flies, but it’s all
surface streets to get there.
Dad finds a cashier and
we hurry to his car, parked
in the garage at the far
casino. Round and round,
down to the exit. Straight
down Sierra Street to
McCarran, Reno’s major
loop road. Speed limit
or under all the way
(a good idea, all things
considered), we limp
into the parking lot, looking
exactly like we’ve stayed
up all night, at nine forty-
seven. Everyone’s inside.
Everyone, that is, except
Mom.
I Don’t Think
I’ve ever seen her so pissed,
and believe me, I’ve seen
her pissed before. But nothing
like this. She lights into us
before we reach the door.
Nice of you to show up
for your own baby’s baptism,
Kristina Georgia. I can believe
