Crank (Crank 1)

and sacrificed hoofed animals?

Shared a bong. Said he was creepy.

Major understatement, if the dude

was really for real! If pot made you

buddy up with Satan, you could keep it!

But don’t worry. Evan’s long gone.

I reached for a whiff of courage.

Far fuckin’ out! Beer’s in back.

We Bumped up the Road

Doing 40 or so spilling some

foam of summer-warmed brew

and busting our guts, laughing.

I watched Brendan’s muscular hands

try to shift, missing gears,

try to steer around potholes,

not quite evading most of them.

I studied his face, mentally tracing

bone structure a model would kill for,

high cheekbones perfect white teeth

all sheathed in Mediterranean-

flavored skin, iced mocha,

begging to be sipped, so I did.

I swear, every guy you kiss is

so different. Each has a unique

essence, each a significant style.

Brendan was eau de lavender, vanilla,

Heineken, Crest and top-notch speed.

His style was “No is not an acceptable

answer.” He was Bree, with a penis.

Saturday Night