jiggle the key

habits being what they
are
give the world an inertia,
a spin
you can't free yourself from.
take
the family
beach trip
to ocean city.
the boardwalk. the hard
red neck scrabble
of it all. bikinis and leather.
bearded men
with ear rings, hogs
revved and revved again
in the gravel lots.
how the fried food
filled the air, the stickiness
of cotton candy
in the clouds. the
fried sticks of chalked men
and women
or rounded
out of shape patrons
roasting
in the july sun on too small
of a towel.
so you went, wife, and kid,
dog
in a kennel for a week.
the same hotel
where they almost knew you.
parking free. the beds stiff
and the rooms smelling
of disinfectant. no, let me
try. you have to jiggle
the key.
a book of coupons on the wobbling
dresser to buy
taffy and ride
the ferris wheel.