chain chain chain

at night
you hear the music
coming from
the house next
door,
chain chain
chain,
chain of fools.
Aretha
belting it out.
you peek
out the window
and see
the old
woman in her
apron, holding
a spatula
to her mouth
like a microphone,
dancing with
her dogs.
she spins around,
as
the dogs leap
and bark
around her feet.
you love her
and want
to marry her.