Losing It
Winchester Drive-In was the
frontier of our existence,
for if you talked a girl into the
Winchester Drive-In, the most
unimaginable things could happen
One night I found myself
engulfed in Sandra Rodriguez,
and what was I to do after that?
I had never been in this
position, had no idea how to
finish the job, much less in
public, and the car wasn’t
big enough, anyway
I should have been happy just
where I was, but the forces of
biology pushed me on to
want the next thing, and the
thing after that, and the
thing that you haven’t
done yet that you for
God’s sake need to do!
Until finally I found myself in
just that place, embedded in
some female anatomy, and
marvelled at its physical
simplicity, this act over
which I had pined,
ached, strategized
It’s only a conjuration, an
intricate dance, a private
agreement. To be invaded,
to invade, to risk having
children or abortions
And then I drove away,
watched the final wave at the door,
and did not make the first
intersection before I
wanted it again
Did not make the
second intersection before I
felt an equal desire to
tell my best friend, who
will hoot and holler and laugh,
the smooth rock of
virginity lofted to sea,
kissing the surface,
vaulting a wave,
sinking to the sand
Notes: The sex act is so magical in the abstract, so basic in the moment, and such a Holy Grail when pursued by those who have yet to have it. This poem is for the aching teenager in all of us.
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