Summer Song #1974

Ban de So-Lay
for the San Tro-Pay
Tan. Sun In, sun light
and you’ll be blonder to nigh-yight.

That’s me at ten,
riding the airwaves,
warm and horny,
moist and slow,
I have no clue, I have
one urge. I am discovering
my developing body my
long growing limbs my
achingly stretched joints my
strange appendages
hanging
low but
level!

a rod in the shower a stiff
in the fist a slippery
slide in the oily heat
of a heartbeat
summer.

I am
at once finding,
and losing,
control.

Everything is coconut flavored.

Everything is tanned and shiny, sweet and coy.

Everything is intense and rippling,
dangerous waves breaking
on me, smirking
with wicked experience:
secret knowledge of secret folds with secret scents.

Everything is breathtakingly exposed
yet hidden
from me. I hum, I hum
lips half open, lips half dry, heart
parched and dizzy and delirious
from grunts and gasps
from heavy pulsations
of unknowable anticipation.

Everything smells thick like peeled lemon skin
rubbed along inside sun-licked thighs
tightly enfolding plump triangles
of trembling wonder
making thick
spit
drip
from
my
teeth.

If you dare wear short shorts,
Nair for short shorts.

The sun is a flaming orange
afro, teased and fluffed, spilling
its nectar on hot concrete sidewalks,
evaporating like exhaust-fume mirages,
just beyond my reach.

I can only sing
summer radio jingles but I know
somewhere beneath those airwaves
somebody is getting some and I know
it’s good because I can
almost
taste it.

Dreamy L.A. Summer

it was another dry summer
day in los angeles the air
hot like strong coffee moved
slow and quiet the way
desert air should and all
i could hear was a lone
bird whistle and the scratchy transistor
voice of Vin Scully
talking me through
a dodger shutout with sandy
on the hill and strawberry
in the box.

i was in love.

a beauty with cool
liquid eyes and naked legs
as rich and ready as fresh candles.

she knew me well
and loved me
anyway.

i knelt in front
of her soft white knees
slipped off her panties
and rested my head there.

it was arid and empty
and still outside our window
the sheer white drape barely moving,
but there was a game on
and i couldn’t lose.

Sugar Fix

When she came back,
all was better.
Her kiss chewy bubble gum ice cream;
her tongue spicy peppermint stripes;
her spit faintly sweet chocolate sprinkles.

Beneath the half-eaten
marshmallow moon,
its reflection skating
across the blueberry sorbet sea,
we strolled along our peanut-butter beach,
spoons at the ready.