what would I give
to dance with a young J Trav
Thunderclap Newman’s
‘something in the air’
is playing
and all I can think
about is a good pair
of thigh-knee-shin-hugging pants
for your supple frame and my hands
grasping the hem of my very own
and us dancing but really
jumping from cinder block
to parking lot bumper
how fun it is to romanticize Publix
and the Dollar General shopping plaza
kicking Arizona Iced Tea tin cans
into the gravel with these
monochromatic oxfords
that fit a little loose on my heels
remember that these and cherry colas
are for doo-wop summers and that
the same shoes and pumpkin
spice everything are for motown
winters but what’s missing now is a box
of Russell Stover chocolates and
a small memo pad maybe some
mocha suede elbow pads
and a voice recorder to store
a couple of laughs or at least a reminder
of how the air smells when
a thunderstorm passes ‘something
humid and like smoke but the car exhaust
doesn’t help’ but the real gravel lies
in our throats and the real dirt
has gathered under our palms
from sitting on the pavement