And I took her to her first volleyball game
At my high school-
There she was,
Apiary- and brown honey at my arm:
And I wrote for her,
And swayed into her, like the moon’s sickle
From my front
Porch swing- until it didn’t have to
Pretend to be forever,
And yet it was beautiful- and from a long
Ways off threw up its arms
And headdresses and gave over all of its nations:
Into the sound of racecars
And adulterous housewives in the scrimshaw
And corrugations of the heavy metal of
Another trailer park-
While their pink breasted and younger cousins
Sunbathed and swam in the chlorine
Which attracted to them
With some small change at the bottom,
Correlating them to some form of giant goldfish
Swimming for their very own occupation
In the strangely shadow less moats of another’s
State fair.