Leaving the DMV today I passed two women
Passing words while passing time.
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. It was his fourteenth . . .”
And I was out the door.
Last time I was there
(You go a lot when you first move to Colorado because the paperwork demands superhuman precision and so your signatures and documents are never in order the first and maybe even the second and third time for each vehicle you are registering),
They were giving out cookies
And I left at the same time as a young man
Wearing a motorcycle helmet
Who assured me he had the money to pay the fees,
Exorbitant as they were,
Misinformed as the first agent he dealt with
Had been about them.
I’m finished now.
Our car, our utility trailer, our motorcycle
All have proper Colorado plates and titles.
Somebody give me a degree
Or at least another cookie.