to Altoona
for the holiday.
the roads are wet with
salt
and melting snow.
Billy and Susie
are in the back seat of our
Rambler,
the dog,
Rex,
is there too. Marge and I
aren't talking at the moment.
she's smoking
a Parliament cigarette
and staring
out the window
at the cows and farms
that we drive by.
we do this every year,
visiting the in-laws,
and fight
over it. she's
deadly silent while we drive.
but all will be well once
we arrive.
we put a smile on all our
troubles,
all our lies
and carry in an enormous
mince eat pie.
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