after ‘Riding in Cars with (Mostly Straight) Boys’ by Josiah Morgan
In the afternoon classroom, the girlfriends
are talking. It takes days to unfurl the rules
of love, its contraindications: speaking up,
public affection, independent plans. What
is required is all of their time, and the attitude
of a good passenger: enthusiasm for every driver’s
skills and to be willing, without limit, to take a joke.
All of their anthems are by Guns N’ Roses. In tags,
in cited lyrics, the clarity of Axl’s grievances: gays
on the street and the intransigence of women,
for which you could be mine / but you’re way out of line.
For the rest of us, well. The classroom is a well-lit
and capacious closet, fit for refuge and for hiding
in plain sight. We are making common cause
of calculus, passing notes to close an open palm.
We bet alone on the promise of our florentine
desires, of a long late blooming. Always the hope
of the universal look, from knowing eyes perpetually
not yet here. We drive within conditions of our licence.
We count the hours away on public transport.
Featured photo by Riley on Flickr.
