tallahassee

2004,
        &  for one hour in Tallahassee
a green jeep is the world
the sensation of hot wet air,
the scent of antifreeze
an hour in Tallahassee,
        &  a dozen miles before, a dozen miles after
the asphalt skids past
        &  the glow, a sunset like a searchlight for tomorrow
New Orleans where everyone’s eating gator
and drinking hurricanes.

Just a glance back at a boy in a red pickup —
there is sweat &  there is money
&  there is everything those buy,
touch — taste - smell
one long glance at his thumbs on the wheel
his empire of motion,
as another
& another grind past &  another
until all the beauty is in the boys
twelve miles from Tallahassee,
&  and the sweat
the sex, the hard failures
&  all the wet dreams of his pretty
end somewhere on bourbon street,
for a moment, the road is heaven,
his thumbs
& his sweat
his grey eyes . this hour
in Tallahassee, a boy laughing
&  singing
God, I was once in Tallahassee