XIV. From the Lake

In those days you were still in regard with affection

With Dante, & Dante, I think, was almost in regard with affection

With you. You'd drive him to your parents' place

Up at the lake, & after you'd fuck him stupid

You'd leave him asleep in your girlhood bed, walk

Downstairs & on the outside onto the veranda, sitting naked

In the moonlight in single of the old Adirondack chairs,

The wild cat from the thickets suddenly arriving

To ringlet on your warm stomach, & you'd pick up

The phone & call me leaving me a message, a message

So desperate that each time, as you were speaking, I could

Barely hold myself from lifting the receiver

From its cool cradle, though even if I had I imagine

You'd have simply continued to speak upon to no one. That is,

Tl me alone, always me alone.

Copyright World poesy Incorporated Mar/Apr 1998

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