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Sonnet I

Row 42, Seats 5, 6, 7, Braves

at Phillies. Beg your sister Mary for

a beer. Then beg Charlene. She hoots and waves

at Dykstra. It’s her habit to ignore

you. Fine. Stand up, stare quickly down Charlene’s

top. Catch a fleeting, narrow glimpse of flesh-

toned bra, her thong peeking out from her jeans.



In bed tonight, think, “Ungh.” Think, “Charlene. Yesss.”

Then eight “Hail Mary”s, ten “Our Father”s. Say

two “Glory Be”s, then pray the Phillies rout

the Braves tomorrow. And the next night. Pray

about Charlene, about her lips, about

the times she used to pick you up from school

and sit for hours, smoking by the pool.


9 March 2012  4:39 pm  

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