Academic journal article The Hudson Review

Seeing Stars

Academic journal article The Hudson Review

Seeing Stars

Article excerpt

Was I twelve when that girl's hand

first came shyly over my shoulder

from the row behind, the B-flick

love story conning us both? Above us

the gum-wrapper foils were shooting

across the Rialto's projector beam

like meteorites to wish a future on.

Whatever her name was, we were

too young for her to be one of the women

I vowed to change every cell of my

nature for, though later there were

a few collisions of equal and opposite

outlooks, two crimped faces spurting

self-regard like oil, two voices

leaking steam under a moon we created

so we could howl it down. I needed you

to pry the rocks from my hands. Thank you

for never looking at me these forty-eight years

as though I were some fish who just

walked into our house on my new feet. …

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