We drove in blind as happiness,
and kissed down to simple half-naked.
A tungsten steel speaker hung on our
side window, talking about love,
your fine ass pressed into black
upholstered leather, seat-back
down in the night, Charlton Heston
being Moses as I parted the sea.
We were headed for the promised land,
setting our high school bodies free.
It was everything or bust—
white wedding gown, indefatigable
sex, all of it set against an
infinitesimal world. We didn’t know
trouble when we saw it. We just drank
our time straight, with beer chaser,
thought we could erase the pain, cut
the chains, live in a stone groove.
But movies always end, lovers aren’t
necessarily friends, and parked cars
have always got to move.