remember: all talk

for however long, it was all need, all the time; then abruptly the urgency was gone. she slipped out the window leaving a pillowy decoy wadded up under covers like the horny adolescent we once were; strange what desire will make foolish people do. would that i could have just said good riddance, laid down some unlivable under-my-roof rules, changed the locks, and nailed the doggie door shut, thereby reducing the incidence of delinquency in my life to just the car payments.

but no. the prodigal need has returned, look at her drag herself through the door all tired eyes and badly camouflaged hickeys, her only energy this brimming thing, with the well-rehearsed reasonable explanations oh my yes i can see she’s got a lot of why in her. i pass on the performance, shrug an unconditional sort of shrug and send her to rest up, reflecting on how badly i needed the youthful strength of that impudent, imprudent aspect of my otherwise rapidly middle-aging self.

this is reckless energy, nothing subtle or sophisticated, no nuance no romance just blunt and direct and inadvertently eloquent, describing the intensity of this need better than i could ever: we’re talking about a girl would look you straight in the eye and say, ever do it in a buick? and then back up a bit so it could go either way, harmless mischevious or something else, something lighthearted not serious and at the same time, not kidding. this girl is shameless, impatient, and has roomy leather back seats.

(may as well admit it i’m all talk. but it’s some talk, yes? mmhmm.)

this is also the girl who seems unafraid of the hope that otherwise terrifies me; she is the insistent voice you hear in spite of everything, saying anything can happen.

5 thoughts on “remember: all talk

  1. That’s a great line, “Ever do it in a Buick?” Never did it in a Buick. Have tried a Pontiac convertible, an Olds Cutlass, and on the hood of an old rusty Chevy Blazer though…

    With the car I have now two people would have to be midget contortionist sideshow freaks to be able to achieve any amount of actual sex action. They don’t build them big and roomy like they used to (except maybe for the Buick!!!)..

  2. it was some kind of ice-blue squarish american sedan, possibly a mid-70’s pontiac, borrowed from her parents, on a back road somewhere between pleasanton and hayward late at night in 1982 or 83, where the mists were descending over rolling undeveloped hills of relentless green like a postcard of ireland…the night’s cold enveloped us with damp fog hands, and yet the heat from our bodies made it irrelevant. i was seventeen, she was eighteen, she was the driver in every sense, and it was some of the best i have ever had. it seemed like nothing else mattered, as if were on a spaceship plunging through the vacuum of the night. if it could be half that good again, it would be worth throwing it all away for. the back seats of those old american cars were more comfortable than my 900 dollar mattress is now. i won’t say anything else comparative.

  3. well, i’ve done it in the front seat (driver’s side) of an MG, with a guy six foot something tall, in a drive-in. challenging, yes, and not all that much fun, but it can be done. compared to that the buick is a two bedroom condo. with a den.

    i’ve also done it in the back of an open pickup truck, on the freeway, inside a sleeping bag — with my parents driving. and i opened my eyes and it was 15oth avenue. we lived on 141st avenue. two people getting dressed in a sleeping bag — in nine blocks.

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