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and sacrificed hoofed animals?
Shared a bong. Said he was creepy.
Major understatement, if the dude
was really for real! If pot made you
buddy up with Satan, you could keep it!
But don’t worry. Evan’s long gone.
I reached for a whiff of courage.
Far fuckin’ out! Beer’s in back.
We Bumped up the Road
Doing 40 or so spilling some
foam of summer-warmed brew
and busting our guts, laughing.
I watched Brendan’s muscular hands
try to shift, missing gears,
try to steer around potholes,
not quite evading most of them.
I studied his face, mentally tracing
bone structure a model would kill for,
high cheekbones perfect white teeth
all sheathed in Mediterranean-
flavored skin, iced mocha,
begging to be sipped, so I did.
I swear, every guy you kiss is
so different. Each has a unique
essence, each a significant style.
Brendan was eau de lavender, vanilla,
Heineken, Crest and top-notch speed.
His style was “No is not an acceptable
answer.” He was Bree, with a penis.
Saturday Night
