Saturday Night Pantoum

by Susan Meyers

                                  —with a line from Mark Strand

If a chicken answers the door, you’re at the wrong party.
Sneak through the crowd, and open the fridge.
Then stand there panting. Never too cold in August.
Isn’t that what your mother always said?

Sneak through the crowd, and open the fridge.
Chickens don’t care, won’t give a cluck.
Isn’t that what your mother always said?
Listen to women, those with the best recipes.

Chickens don’t care, won’t give a cluck
if the moon wears a halo and the party’s a drag.
Listen to women, those with the best recipes.
Easy enough to make friends with your host.

If the moon wears a halo and the party’s a drag,
now’s the time to admit your mistake.
Easy enough to make friends with your host
whenever you’re pushed against the wall.

Now’s the time to admit your mistake,
apologize, repeatedly, for the lime Bermudas.
Whenever you’re pushed against the wall,
recite Mark Strand or tell an old joke.

Apologize, repeatedly, for the lime Bermudas,
say you lost your shirt on the way to the river.
Recite Mark Strand or tell an old joke,
anything to keep your upper lip from sweating.

Say you lost your shirt on the way to the river.
Say you’re in love with someone you can’t name,
anything to keep your upper lip from sweating.
Turn a cartwheel, maybe two, so you won’t look foolish.

Say you’re in love with someone you can’t name.
Then stand there panting. Never too cold in August.
Turn a cartwheel, maybe two, so you won’t look foolish.
If a chicken answers the door, you’re at the wrong party.