--- D O N A L D   I L L I C H

I deliberately get us lost,
say the blue line when unrhymed
orange is the right one,
point us to a bad exit 10 blocks
from the Mexican restaurant.
Under-dressed senoritas walking 
the sidewalk secretly laugh
at our mistake, smiling as if
they know it’s only a matter
of hormonal time before
I lick the rims of their glasses.

Stopping, you fold your arms,
glare at me through a gray cloud
of bus exhaust, and signal
with your stamping feet
that I’m a lit butt beneath
them, just about to be crushed.
Whatever you do, even if you’re 
Smoky the Bear preventing
forest fires, smothering
my flame, I’ll continue to give
a hoot about you, and pollute
every route to our destinations.

Because:  your skin flushes 
when you’re angry, your teeth 
adorable when they gnash together.
I love your hate more than I
like your love.  Only one I find
easily, only one I can see in 
the dark, wondering where I am.