Poetry
Photo by Ot van Lieshout on Unsplash
my first time, 1968
—for a boy named alan
in the basement
of the bi-level
where I live
with my parents
and older sister
in a small middle class
suburb of Chicago
while my parents
are upstairs
watching carol burnett
he and I struggle with
our unformed selves
he is so different
from the usual boys
jocks cool dressers
he is pure nerd
but there is a certain
je ne sais quoi
about him
his cardigan
his suede elbow patches
his rusty two-door
ford falcon
so that when he places
his trembling sixteen-year-old
sweaty hand
on my padded
maidenform chasonette bra
i feel the full strength
of his steeliness
we don’t last much
beyond
that basement grope
but he teaches me
so much about
e.e. cummings
no caps.
My boyfriend and I drive from Bloomington to Champaign, 1970
Insects glut our windshield like Saturday confessions
at Our Lady of the Prairie on a day
so sapped by humidity our car
seems to lose speed. Radio stations sputter,
the backs of our thighs slowly melt into cracked
vinyl seats, as searing air blasts
through open windows of our ’59 Chevy.
Desiccated cornfields line the road. It’s a helluva
drive after a wrecked weekend with friends
who never missed a chance to swipe or gripe
at each other about God-knows. We skipped out
before the kill, before the weekend devolved
into something like The Ride of the Valkyries.
Now, we’re pushing the pedal to make it home
before nightfall, when a station, maybe in Terre Haute,
decides to cue Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major.
The violins and cello settle over us
and we pull to the side of the rode to listen,
corn stalks rustling.
The sun finds us
In my mustard-colored Toyota, we drive from the smoggy city,
its over-trafficked hallways,
hike in ocean-misted hills,
ripe with red-stemmed manzanita.
Our path is uncharted, but we never lose our way,
never lose sight of the wavering ocean below.
We let its irregularities guide us, imagine its
underwater mysteries.
And there, on a wooden bench, dedicated
to someone who had once loved the view,
I take you by surprise. You, so unable to resist.
And there, only the sun found us.