Burning House of Love

once you know it was a burning house of love where the dogs ran wild in the woods behind. Now there is a development there. This was when the new money came in. It was the age of Wall Street and all would bend before its will. But once we were young and did not care about such matters. She had golden curly hair and could have conceivably been the smartest girl in the grade. We had sex. We drank. We flipped everyone the bird. The kids today have nothing on us for sheer disrespect of authority. But the time moved on and we fell out of love as such things happen. There are, however, times when I am driving on 133 and I pass Whitlaw Lane and I think of her.