Sweet Avenue :: published in Chiron Review

chiron1 chiron

Listen :: Jets to Brazil :: Sweet Avenue

 

Sweet Avenue
It was that August
I had my first kiss in the rain.

Mark stands next to me, rocking
back and forth, heels
to toes and back again.
Hands shoved in his pockets,
his face to the sky
as the rain falls.
    Do you have that mix tape
              I made you? he asks.
He slides into my driver’s seat
searches through the pile
of tapes cluttering the seat and the floor.
        Listen, he puts
in the tape, turns up
the volume as loud as
the speakers will bear.

He hooks his fingers
in my belt loops
pulls me to him.
I close my eyes,
feel his breath shift
to the rhythm of the song.

               I hate that my life can be
             summed up in three minutes
            and three cords. I say.
He kisses me.
                          How punk rock.

The song ends.

We lean
against my car
listening to the rain
ping
against the hood.

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