Peter Chapman Poetry

I keep knowing more than i know

                                   early winter, Seabreeze NY

more overhearings, more underhearings
like in the quick stop store, i'm getting a beer
in the jittery proximity of 3 kids behind me,
talking laughing,
a black boy and two white girls, sexy, one on her phone,
something about "the mouth on that little girl!"


at the car dealer where (foolish me!)
i'd gone with this promotion
to "get my new Kia" i joked to Mom
and sitting there, in the cold showroom
with the slouched sinister salesforce all about me booming
bad idea, you suck,
like a baroque ceiling of painted predation
and i do it!
i sign something, not knowing what,
then another salesman brings over a sack,
says reach in
and i pull out a gas card worth five bucks


i'm pale and nervous, then i have my beer
and think about the jeans on those rough girls,
the couth on that little swirl, how erratic
this planet gets, when all you want is a free car,
some beer, a nice sure bet 

girls and cars make the world go round,
you double up, you double down