[imitation of Jan Beatty's poetry]
Eighteen
In my black Chuck Taylors,
I walk the crack
of the sidewalk; a miniature Route 66
tearing through cement slabs:
California, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas.
Phoenix never gets below sixty-five,
even in January.
And oh,
how I crave that heat -
the just-opened-oven-door-warmth, sweat-running-down-the-small-of-your-back, scorching-waves-beating-off-concrete, teenage-backseat-heat.
We used to gather on the golf course at night, sliding fingers under belt buckles and zippers; drinking until enough people threw up/the sprinklers came on/the sun came up.
I think Tyler and Brittney are having sex in the bushes.
John just left with those two freshman girls - he said he had a video camera.
Wear your tightest jeans, it’s Friday night.
- Liz
- Morgantown, WV, United States
- Favorite animals: sloths, wolves, mourning doves, horses, dogs, plesiosaurs. Favorite flowers: Lilly-Of-The-Valley, Queen Anne's Lace, Baby's Breath, Snapdragons. Favorite fairy tales: Little Red Riding Hood, Hansel & Gretel, Snow-White & Rose-Red, Brother & Sister. Favorite drinks: ginger ale, blueberry juice, champagne, iced coffee, orange-cream soda.
1 comment:
I really enjoy where you describe the kind of heat that you crave. Just this million words per minute description or at least that's how I read it. It'd would've been funny if you put something really random in there:..the-small-of-your-back, fish-talk-like-a-coral-emission(Jodan said this), scorching-waves-....But I don't know if you'd want that humor in there. Is "Wear your tightest jeans, it's Friday night" your line (?), because I swear to God I've heard this in a song.
Proabably not. But great words.
Great description. There's a movie in this.
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