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The Porch Light Flickers in Parental Disapproval
Sweet music on the Mustang’s radio
We’re sitting in her parents’ driveway
And sort of talking about the movie
And sort of talking about poetry and life
Frost is settling on the hood of the car
But all is warm in our bubble of love
Until
Our kiss is interrupted by the flickering
Of the parental, watchful front porch light
We sigh. We kiss. The censorial eye -
It orders me away - “That’s all! Bye-bye!”
(Oh, flick that porch light anyway!)
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