pleasure world

there is a place
where the speed
limit is 25 everywhere,
where the guy at
the gate just waves
you in, too hot to
open the little
glass window,
and where the fields
are cut tight and short
and deer dip their
angelic heads out of
the woods waiting for
the sun to set, a
place where all
the tags on the
cars read florida,
and where a basket
of lost inhalers sits
near the mailboxes,
the canes, and
umbrellas too. it's
a place where you
can smell cakes
baking, eeking out
from under the wreathe
laden doors, and a pot
roast too, and where
you can hear tony
bennett being played
on the stereos.
sinatra, peggy lee
singing is that all
there is. dean martin.
there is a place
with a nurse on
call, and an ambulance
circling the golf
course. it's not
the end, but it's
very very close. it's
called pleasure world.