rifles through
a Peaches LP crate
in search of the loudest

gets a ride
to the local teen
rec center

a band slams into
a raucous version
of the Cars’
“You’re All I’ve Got Tonight”

wonders how
lips can get
so shiny red

holding up
a back wall
gets her a ride
in a tan convertible

not sure
which one
she likes

the blonde or
the one
with dark curls
and blue eyes

oh never mind

soccer games
and the beginning
of linear athletics

round trip
to the Jersey Shore
and back

something always
gets lost
in translation

news of
death by drowning
in a Florida pool
decades later

next time she swims
it better be
the ocean