Monthly Archives: January 2015

Lovers Night Out

Under the larch­es and lark shit
and the woo they lay down —
a canopy of bad ideas and chuffed promises —
Bethany slept and Paul counted
the things he want­ed to do
before he died.
Bethany the heart, Paul the vein.
Like Chi­nese beryl or blastomeres,
they’re cleft and uncleft, twins who mimic
twin­ning. They make everything
that they believe.
Bethany the anchor, Paul the chain.
After dark, they unfurl and slide
into town. Paul prongs oysters
onto her dusty tongue, and she
chirps and licks him clean.
Bethany the mem­o­ry, Paul the stain.

This is then, when they stepped out, right ?
down the steps from the hotel to the Aubergine –
more like black bruise colored,
the con­crete ramp they call the Aubergine
to make being old or in a chair not stink –
and across the Checkerboard –
the reg­u­lar board­walk paint­ed black and white
so get­ting to the sand is a game not a drag –
and to the sand. Before this is when
they were in their room for two days
only some steps and the Aubergine
and the Checker­board away from the sea.
This is after the fight at El Patio
and the fire and the red tag on the door –
so you know you can’t live there anymore –
after the first hotel in Carlsbad –
this is Lagu­na, right ? this is when we freaked
and didn’t know if they were in jail
or in TJ or they killed each other,
which she did, him, when they stepped out
and down onto the cool blue gray sun­down sand
after two days in that room with a rock
she picked up on The Aubergine
and the hotel said their room was real­ly clean
and the bed was still made.