Adam Fisher


This suburban street of development homes 
looks ordinary to the passer-by. 
But take the Tedescos at number twelve. 
Their daughter was the teller 
in cahoots with her friend 
who robbed her bank—split 
it fifty–fifty. When asked why 
a nice girl from the suburbs 
would do such a thing 
she shrugged. But if she’d heard 
of Willie Sutton, she’d have said, 
“That’s where the money is.” 
There’s that hotshot down at twenty, 
who thinks he’s a Soros 
 but still lives on our street 
 with the rest of the bourgeoisie. This 
 wizard of wall street, with his frameless 

glasses and black BMW  
is the one among us 
with the most toys. 
Or, what about the kid from number five 
who killed a girl who crawled from 
her window to meet him 
at midnight? He’s serving life. 
Then, there’s Margaret M. who 
wears dark glasses as if she is blind 
or cool. See her at midnight, 
sprinting in her nightie, 
doing laps around the block, 
as if the real Margaret 
is available only in the dark. 

back to top



send comments to info@poetrybay.com

first electronic copyright 2000 poetrybay. 
all rights revert to author



Poetrybay seeks fine poetry, reviews, commentary and essays without restriction in form or content, and reserves first electronic copyright to all work published. All rights to published work revert to the author following publication. All Email submissions should be in body of email text.

To submit poems write to:

PO Box 114 
Northport NY 11768
or email us at 

send comments to info@poetrybay.com

first electronic copyright 2004 poetrybay. 
all rights revert to authors

website comments to dpb@islandguide.com