falling off



so I missed you that one night

I was hanging by the picnic table at 7-11

doing nothing but

waiting for the pay phone to ring

and this thin, blonde girl I knew from upstate,

Delaney, pulled up in her black '89 Camaro

smoking a Marlboro Lights 100.

I asked to bum one

and we stood on the curb

smoking, talking about a couple people we knew,

looking at the massive trees

down by the bridge

with the dusk coming up

over the river,

red and humid,

end of July.

What a great time to be hanging

outside smoking butts and

talking, laughing a little, looking out the corner of

your eye at some new girl standing

there perspiring in her lime green blouse,

her jeans all faded and snug

just how you want them to be. I knew

you were my girl too, that's

sort of the point. I said to Delaney

I had money for smokes

and a couple forties, if she wanted.

She chose Lite while I stuck

with Old English,

I bought a pack of Camels

so I wouldn't have to keep bumming,

though she said it was fine,

and then we rode off, low in her Camaro,

both windows down,

breathing in the dusk,

the close air moving over us.

We drove down the dirt road

to the old, sumac-ridden

bridge abutment, the one rising like a tower

from the steep, gnarled

river bank, huge blocks

of cool, filthy granite.

You sit there overlooking

the brown river feeling

like you own it, and if the

end of the world ever comes,

I guess we will. Or someone will. We sat there

drinking our beer, smoking,

talking quietly about all sorts of things,

finally just saying nothing,

sitting close, bare arms lightly touching,

aware of the electricity in our bodies.

I thought I could smell the

small, blonde hairs on her arms,

then a couple other things happened. All the while

I wondered if you'd called,

if you'd been calling,

that beat up pay phone ringing and

ringing and finally someone

picking it up, or someone not picking

it up. I wondered if you were going to have

that baby. I never found out. That

was all 3000 miles ago,

and now I'm wondering

if I should go back. But I'm chilling now

at another 7-11 in a strange, desert

state, and there's no

one around worth asking, and also

no one who could give me

a ride.