That Heart-Shaped Box

Hanging up, I thought then, at that instant,
because I was absolutely sure, 19-year old certain,
the world would be shot full of wonder, amazement,
one of those kaleidoscope tubes, bursting all around me.
Not the dull, old peep-hole experience.  This would be
a multi-colored everything everywhere extravaganza . . .

Is what I knew, caressing the receiver into the cradle,
I’d be saying, screaming, in three brief weeks,
on Valentine’s Day.  This was no fervent hope;
this was a fervent slam dunk surety.

Yeah, Baby, roses, yes, chocolate, check,
dinner at the Hao Tree Lānai,
dancing at Bobby McGee’s.

You know those rocking high hopes, right?

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