Sunday, June 14, 2009

Poem: A Parking Lot

I stayed kissed.
I said god, god
of the glacier letting go,
god that made the mouths
of Connecticut Valley men
strong after all that
rough weather. Hands
in your pockets, I pulled
you in. The air snapped
its ten-degree
fingers. Couldn’t tell
if every crackmoney tramp 
in town was yours
already, but then—black sky,
blue stars, naked heat
at the fingertip hollow 
of your neck—
that was home,
that was here.
I live there now.
I stayed.

(appeared in Northwest Review, 2008)

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