Santa Fe, New Mexico

it was windy and i had just stopped
for a pack of cigarettes
when i saw you pumping gas into
your midnight blue '65 Camaro
your panties peeking out from beneath
your red nylon dress
as you bent inside to get your purse.
you turned to catch me staring
an embarrassed grin on my face
but as i turned to walk away
i felt your hand on my ass.
you returned to your car where
you produced a bottle of Jack Daniels.
we spent the evening racing around town
radio blaring hardly speaking
before we ended up at my place
and finished off that bottle of JD
the soft rush of liquor seeping down
your belly and collecting in your belly
button where i slurped it up like it
was the nectar of the gods
or something.
i never even knew your name
just that you were on your way to LA
and that your father was a cop.

- Stephen W. Brodie