Selected Poems
Drive In
Rain drops on the windshield are lit fireflies, left in array
every other car starts and begins to pull away
She sleeps in the backseat and laying on me
The movie was not all the hype said it would be
Through crack-open rear windows, bored breezes sneak in
rustles stray hair on her sweat wet brow. Incense
a perfume of hot butter and popped corn anoints the air
Leaving brake lights litter our cabin with a votive candle glow.
Something holy has happened here. Last songs play over
scrolling words, closing credits of our recessional hymn.
She stirs. After another soda sip, we will be the last to leave the lot
We carry ourselves home.
every other car starts and begins to pull away
She sleeps in the backseat and laying on me
The movie was not all the hype said it would be
Through crack-open rear windows, bored breezes sneak in
rustles stray hair on her sweat wet brow. Incense
a perfume of hot butter and popped corn anoints the air
Leaving brake lights litter our cabin with a votive candle glow.
Something holy has happened here. Last songs play over
scrolling words, closing credits of our recessional hymn.
She stirs. After another soda sip, we will be the last to leave the lot
We carry ourselves home.
