Two Poems

Global Warming Everyone was in groups of ten, and I felt awkward standing at the cocktail party alone.An acquaintance approached. How are you? I asked. He frowned and said, Well, not very good. I’m experiencing global warming. Global warming? I repeated. Yes, he said. I don't know whether I’m coming or going. I paused. What do you mean? The rat race, he explained. It's a crazy rat race out there. I don't know if I’m coming or going with everyone clambering to make it to the top of the ladder. How is your global warming? he asked, blinking. Well actually, I said, it’s half full. Really? he looked at me skeptically. I didn’t realize you could put it in a cup. Oh yes, I said, with a little steamed milk and some honey and some brown sugar, it tastes really good. He looked at me like I had just killed his baby or at least like I spit in its chubby, round face. See you around sometime, he said, and walked over to a group of ten standing beside the Olympic- sized swimming pool.   Gun Shots I walked into the store to buy some cigarettes. A man with a gold tooth approached me and said, you're wearing my clothes. I was insulted, and I wanted him to know just how insulted I was. Those are my clothes, he said. They were in the back of my car. Let me take you to the car and show you where the clothes were and that they are now gone. So I followed him to the car. The car was brown and had rust on it. Look at that spot in the back seat, he said. I bent down and peered in through the window. He was right— there were no clothes in the back seat. Just then I heard gun shots. Duck down, the man said. It’s a drive by. I think they're after you, he said. Get in the car, and we’ll drive somewhere and be safe. When I sat in the front seat, I smelled a familiar smell from my childhood: pine needles. Is there an air freshener in here? I asked. The man said no, but he'd be happy to open the windows. The man drove down a long two-lane highway. The trees on either side were tall. Is the gun in the sock under the front seat? I asked. I’m not trying to pry, but I just want to know in case we need it. I understand, he said. Now what are we going to do about the clothes? It is a problem, I agreed, because I have nothing to change into. Are you willing to take a rain check? I asked. The man thought quietly to himself. He considered the matter thoroughly. I looked out the window and wondered if it was going to rain. The sky now looked heavy and dark. Do you think they are gaining on us? I asked. Who? The men who fired gun shots. Yes, he said, they are gaining on us. We must drive faster but not so fast as to get a speeding ticket. In these parts, the locals don't like people who speed. They feel that they are the type of people who kill children and small animals. They feel that they are the type who rape women and burn down houses. Have you ever had your house burned down? the man asked. Yes, I said. Once a crazy man burned down my apartment. He was never caught, and I lost everything I owned. All I had left were the clothes on my back. I’ve decided, the man said, about the clothes. I’ve looked at it from all different directions. I’ve weighed the pros and the cons. And although I’d really like to, I’ve come to the conclusion that I couldn’t under any circumstances take a rain check.