ICE CREAM

There are things I don’t like to admit.

Like once,

A friend had a bunch of ice cream.

He said he got it from a dumpster

Where the ice cream store had put it

Because it was no longer fresh.

Anyway,

We decided to toss the ice cream on cars

As they drove down the long suburban road

In front of my house.

Phhht

It would hit the windshields

Of unsuspecting drivers.

Sometimes they stopped

And chased us across yards

And the low stone walls

That marked off the yards,

Between houses in our neighborhood.

That was the best.

The chasing.

Heart racing, feet moving faster than you thought

Was possible.

They seemed angry.

What would they do if they caught up to us?

I never found out.

I’m not sure why

We did it.

But I can hear my friend’s laughter

And feel the crazy rush

Of anticipation,

Like we were messing

With the way things were supposed to be

In this money town.

Like maybe we would disturb

Their shit.

We did not think at all

About what might happen,

Just that something would.