I spent some time in a chat room
trying to meet women who are also
interested in Gila monsters.
It seemed inconclusive,
so we reconciled ourselves
to another weekend Γ deux.
Maybe a trail run β well β
on a leash?
(She is reasonably well-behaved,
occasionally leaping at people
to lick their faces,
which is disconcerting,
because of the forked tongue
and how long it is.)
We found a bankrupt video store
with a close out bin of VHS tapes,
which was cool β we still have our
Sony recorder.
I was rummaging for 70s-era Bronson,
though my Gila monster leans toward
rom coms and British period stuff.
At any rate, at a buck a pop,
we found plenty to take home,
along with popcorn, Cheetos,
a 46 pound bag of dog chow,
(I can’t really figure out
what Gilas eat.)
onion dip, Flaming Hot Doritos,
a case of Diet Dr. Pepper (and a bowl) β
vintage Star Wars video games
with two controllers
that do the light saber sounds.
It was a great weekend.