1978

if I remember anything clearly
about us it’s this:
we went stoned to a carnival once
we made love on a grass bed
and the neon behind your shoulders
made me think I was loving the moon

if I could say this
to your face now
I believe you would be
astonished at the comparison
for back then
you did not like poetics
and were as practical
as an assassination

I’m tired
after all these years of wishing for carnivals
after all the meat and dirt of boundary and stink
I say this:
I don’t want to keep dreaming of how
I once made love to the moon
I want to wake up and smell the midway
the fried dough and the sweat of teenagers

I want to slap the gun
from your hand
and run

About Tony Brown

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A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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