PALO VERDE PALACE

“If for some reason this ironically hits a bit too close to home, hey, I didn’t give out the complete address.”

Small beige house with carport, yellow-flowered tree, and parked cars on street

Come summer months when the temperature’s above 100, my wife and I get commonly asked, “Are you guys okay. I haven’t seen you out?”

Like many seniors, we spend a good amount of time indoors, but that doesn’t mean we’re ill or hurting. I’m generally in my garage working on projects while Joleen sews and does her thing.

I’ve heard other older people in town say the same thing. Some of my friends won’t stop by unless the garage door is up, and that hardly ever happens during peak temperatures. It’s now air-conditioned, so letting all of the cool air escape would be wasteful.

I penned another one of those hypothetical poems slanted towards a fictitious couple, the Spooners, living on Palo Verde. They rarely leave their home all year long, except in December, when they go to Hawaii for a month.

If for some reason this ironically hits a bit too close to home, hey, I didn’t give out the complete address.

“BEHIND CLOSED DOORS

The old couple living on the corner.

Both are hardly seen outside of their home.

Neighbors assume that they’re just loners.

Choosing to live by themselves all alone.

*****

Boyd and Sue come across as fragile.

Often use walkers or ornate wood canes.

This is all for a definite reason.

To make folks think that they are lame.

*****

The Palo Verde Palace holds a big secret.

One that the neighborhood does not see.

It’s an after-hours gambling joint.

Complete with slots and video poker screens.

*****

All guests arrive through the back door.

Vehicles are parked on adjoining streets.

Because they come late in the evening.

Most of the residents are fast asleep.

*****

Boyd and Sue Spooner make thousands.

So much that they launder it out.

An ambulance will pull into their driveway.

Hauling away Franklins, Jacksons, and Grants.

*****

The Spooners shut down each December.

An unmarked hearse soon stops by.

Word quickly spreads through the grapevine,

Wrongly, one of the octogenarians has died.

*****

This has been going on for ten years now.

Neighbors have yet to see the light.

Both entrepreneurs are thinking of retiring.

Yet it’s hard for them to give up this life.

*****

Should LHPD ever catch on to things.

Or the IRS attempts to get in their way.

Boyd has rehearsed just what to say here.

It’s merely part of our 401-K.”

Elderly man and woman counting and bundling stacks of US hundred-dollar bills at a wooden table