an affair in three movements (poetry)

an affair in three movements
on the way:
thirsting, hot
for the shaded
rooms of that hotel,
for the night of my day
where the darkness comes only with eyes hard pressed
and wall-paper stars burn
so I am to be, finally
and when we are there:
a long drink, at last
of his [open] mouth
with doubts tied to the bedposts
i try on the words too obscene
to say to anyone
that really means anything
feeding a fever so infectious
that I straddle two worlds
to catch it’s fire,
parched, dry
until next we meet
on the way back [home]:
the dashboard [after] glow
drunken on damage done
my hand is stretched out the open car window
the wind
the waves of youth’s orange twilight
as we’re hurdling again through separate evenings
infinite dust looms

Leave a Reply