A Date with a Lesbian

 

[What is the point? the jocks ask,

And to them I say “Stay tuned!”]

 

This date a golden glow now,

Your sexuality and mine, charged, taut by the

Glorious talk of sex with the unattainables, the female rock and indie stars,

The Amazons of Princeton,  German girls jogging, their behinds describing a space

In this miasmal autumn, its leaves almost gone now,

And me, latte chai in hand, raptly hanging on to your crushes, your near

Conquests , your almost-smacked lips.

 

And now this waitress, (“It’s her," you whisper), pen

Dangling in cleavage, mole on cheek, hips thrust at angle, hugs you and then

Dutifully, me, hands in the menu card , walks away,

And you dissolve in ecstasies, at her receding back.

“One good thing about being a female is that it does not show!” You comment, giggling and I suggest a quick, cold shower.

 

Later, after the big tip, the second, parting hug,

the exchanged phone numbers,

promise of a future dance date,

In the parking lot, “You scored big today!” I comment and you say “No , you did! She is straight as an arrow. Did you notice the hug was open,

not boob-to-boob?” and it’s my turn to dissolve, this time in laughter.

 

Woman, I seek you out for the same reason  Men seek other Women: A hand

On the shoulder, trouble at work, marriage turning cold,

Audience for a new, half-baked poem

Maturity Onset Diabetes

Autumn slowly giving way to winter, when the Savior is born.

 

Take me home, now,

To lie in your lap, at one with the stars,

And cry a little,

Cry a lot.

 

(Levittown, PA 12/04/04)