Westwind

Bad Parkers

Kevin Mosby

as a boy it’s the backseat fumblings

on summer nights at the delta

arouse us the most –

 

most time chicken liver dinners don’t do a damn

to your libido save a handful of stickythings

come early mother said to father’s ears

 

all the slickness

in the stomach would make another boy

but I and the sisters heard too

 

and the girl wasn’t fixing to mother in that car

that night when it was too late

and the lord had already damned her –

 

she drove her daddy’s Fiero like out of hell

and she never knew when to stop it but when I’d say

pull over you want some fun

 

and her foot got heavy as hell quicker than

I could unbelt and she shimmied into a

spot — two, really — jaggedlike

 

one tire on the weeds the others on cracked asphalt

in the park by the river and I thanked god

he hadn’t given me a sissy of a driver

 

who waits to park till the wheels and such are

aligned and I unbelted and unbuckled

and she howled and it was a good night –

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