“This town’s known for UFO sightings,”
he says between our calculations.
“There’s a diner on the corner
that’s called The Cup and Saucer.”
I stare through the fractions
stamped on my tape measure;
stare through the apprentice
fumbling through our Trade.
“I dated a girl who worked there,”
I tell him, boiler room sweat
stopped by my eyebrows.
“Did she believe in aliens?” he asks.
The Kid’s a year older
but he’s got a lot to learn.
“She believed in someone
more far-fetched.”
I grin like a burglar
immune to the Universe
and pull another trigger
that only revs the band saw.
This article appears in November 2015.
