Date night

I reach for the vents
pointing the a/c at my thighs
and my neck
turning on the Stones
and edit this moment
to feel like a good time
a really, really good time

you pop French fries
into my mouth
going 75 in the middle lane
dodging semi’s
and I am giggling
at your bad jokes
my hand at six o’clock
on the wheel


August wasn’t meant to dispense mercy
every bit of heat and glare possible
concocted by a troubled day
that some find shiny.
If I were honest, I do feel guilty
for grumbling, even silently, of
perspiration. aggravation. recalescence.
a created coolbringing option on my car
that doesn’t keep up, but
I know it wants to, panting
at every red light and train crossing
coughing for a good five minutes
after I have taken out the key

hotter than eggs on a pan

sitting in my own sweat
t-shirt sticking to the car seat
I go back years
to the scent of patchouli
and a badlyrolled joint
the backdrop for us

you and me and he
a triangle of the craziest, and
she nearly took my head off
guessing what game we were playing
the day covered in southern comfort

I was so glad mom didn’t know
what I was up to
sizzling summer days
on eagles’ wings
however we grasped at them

memories etched
in the rocks at the lake
impressions of our bodies gone
as sand shifted and water seeped
before anyone could see
that we had been there

Skidding in slo-mo

He was an angry buck out to prove
his folks were wrong
but too old to act that way
no matter how much he pissed her off
he was just cocky enough
to believe she’d be back

She drove four states
to get to that hot-headed prick
who had driven her mad
what she’d never admit
his smile enough
to knock her wheels off the tracks

ignoring her rebellious heart
never doing what it was told
if it was her mama
or her best friend, or her ex
or even the professor
who felt her up during finals–
she knew better


She remembers when the water was like diamonds
and she’d been dreaming about sparklers ever since
Cinderella with her magic fairy auntie
brought to light the possibility of lurking princes

She took off while he was working, packing
five t-shirts, as many pairs of Levi’s
and a red dress into her graduation luggage
still with the tags on, the air moist and oppressive

Starting off somewhere in the middle of the states
flipping a coin she headed west, not stopping
til the water was salty as her skin
her elbow jutting out the window, tan as walnuts

No one there to tell her to turn it down, she
blasted Guns N’ Roses, her hair
a storm about her head, her phone ringing
on the hour until she threw it out the window