--- J O H N N O R T O N
Feel the draw of the moon. I must be out. These teeth he said running the tip of his tongue from one incisor across to the other these teeth are sensitized. I dress in black and must be out cruising. He remembers a winter night on Boston Common. The snow ice crackled as he walked his girlfriend to a park bench next to the Frog Pond. Old snow speckled with soot lined the cement crater. The icy sidewalks picked up the gray moonlight. Nowhere they can go inside to smooch and fondle. They had to be out shivering and buried in overcoats. A hand in under the sweater and down into her pants. It was cold and hard to warm up Nancy. The Big Sur moon seen from the casita at the edge of the cliff. The line of light on the corrugated water. Stand on the cabin deck to look over and down. Waves smashing. Forces slower than one lifetime erode the person. Always here. The surf swirls through a natural bridge at the base of a cliff. The arch in the moonlight.
© crossconnect 1995-1998
published in association with the |
university of pennsylvania kelly writers house |