We pull in to the packed lot

tuck the Jeep between two parked

with their hatches open,

occupants saying “Ah,”

legs dangling like fishing lines over a dock

kicking lazy with life

we attach ourselves to the end of the long line

— last but not for long —

hugging three sides of the building

before unfurling

free

for ever and ever like a kite string

the longer the better

always the perfect length

for the moment’s the day’s the summer’s biggest decision

the choosing and unchoosing

and choosing, waffling, going back, entertaining, dismissing

granting ourselves wishes and permishes to change our mind

all of us, in all our shapes and seasons

every flavor of the same love

equal and equals in our expectancy

all of us, standing

under an ugly bridge upon cracked pavement

ice cream sandwiched between used car lots and abandoned buildings

a stop light and every so often

some poor motherfucker trying to make a left across a double line

coaxing occasional grace

but mostly impatient car horns and angry curse words out the window

from a world holding them accountable to knowing better

even though they are soooooooo close

until finally

we gain sight of the two windows in front

— the Swirly Gates —

and then …

it is

Time.

and despite 40 minutes in the car

and another 40 to decide

we still ask the young girl

we hope will always be here

for as long as there is a summer

to help us pick

between the extra large banana

or the large chocolate chip cookie arctic swirl

the oreo we had before

or the turtle we’ve never tried

and even after he makes his choice,

he hedges …

asks if it’s too late to change

— it’s not. It’s never too late here —

and so goes for the Large Marge Sundae

fuck yes he does

and we step back and wait

for the girl who took our order to make it herself

that’s how they do it here

she can take as long as she needs

take her own sweet time … we’re good.

Everybody here is good.

When she calls from the window our orders back to us

the kids in all of us spring forward, say thank you

and one-hand snap a few extra napkins for everybody

for the mess we always make

and for a few minutes we linger out in front

with the others still waiting, and us spooning,

just to be amongst