Baffled

Last month, it was football players
Robbed the malt shop and set fire
To the Splish Splash carwash “between 3 and 5:30 am.”
A roommate brought a sackfull of quarters
To the bank and sang, they say, like a canary
In a courthouse.

There’s a mantle of sweet apples on the ground,
Under the tree and under the snow,
Rotting here and there between freeze and thaw.
This brings in a few hungry deer most nights,
Thumping, munching, scraping up what they can.
This, I think, I can understand.

But this arson, I know, has been an occasion
for improved business across my street.
The House of Suds brings in all characters.
Like the guy there right now, just began
Spraying down a red Mustang with foam at 5:30am
In the frozen darkness.