The day was a scorcher.
Late June hung over the school
like a casually forged permission slip offering
early escape from
lunchroom hell.
And slipping away too was love.
Two years and too many
Hey Judes later,
it was all getting too constant - too mundane.
In the west wing lobby
we risked scolding and hopped up onto
waist-high file cabinets
to argue our way through teen divorce.
But three accusations later,
Pat and Mary burst through giggling
double doors, oblivious to the unfolding drama
and with self invitations apparent,
squeezed like a four-legged sex god
into a desk by the door.
Reduced to shooting
dagger glances didn't help anything,
and silent fuming signalled
it was over.
Meanwhile, Pat and Mary mocked us
by settling into some
seriously self absorbed whisper-slurpy
necking in the corner.
Even June's airy promise tiptoeing in through open doors
couldn't revive conversation
or thought.
Then, a moment of
unexpected
clarity.
Mike Zotos, the accidental Eros, encased in a gigantic rust-colored Suburban,
came hurtling around the corner into the west wing parking lot.
Like Kirk guiding the Enterprise through a slingshot-effect pass at the sun,
he swung his lumbering behemoth around in tire-rending defiance of physics and
shot back out of the parking lot at twice the speed he had come.
And had his newly installed cassette player been any louder, it would surely
have vibrated that piece-of-shit truck to bits.
(Captain!
We're overdriving the warp engines sir!
She'll never hold up under the strain!
she'll break up on us sure!)
But as it turned out, it was just loud enough
to sling a couple lines of Paul McCartney's howling
"na na na na-na-na-na's" straight into our teen hearts.
And in that instant, fumes dissipated,
daggers became flowers,
and we followed Pat and Mary's lead
into sex-god bliss.
Author notes
Written July 19th, 2006
A contest entry
- Love and sex by caesarjager.
300 points, ended November 7, 2006, 20 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Hopelessy Romantic Guys by Ice queen 17.
300 points, ended April 5, 2007, 37 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 14 of 14
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this was quite...interesting, the form and everything was unique which is always good. thanks for taking the time to enter my contest, and good luck to you.
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Hey Jude.... I'm sixteen and I know that song well. Does thatmean I'm hopelessly out of the loop of my peers? Probably.
But I already knew that. I'm also LOVING the Star Trek references woven into the piece. Gives it a bit more nostalgia and a bit more amawesomagnifabulousness.
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Thank you your funniness! It was a story I'd nearly forgotten until a few weeks ago when driving with my fifteen year old daughter she was asking me about this song by the beatles that she didn't know the name of. She said it's something like "Dear June" and sang a little of it. At that instant I had a rush of recollection about that afternoon in the west wing lobby 28 (!!!) years ago and told her the story then rushed home and wrote this... Was kinda neat and was also fun working in the trek stuff although the first usage was accidental as I pictured Mr. Scott admonishing Captain Zotos for putting too much power into the speakers of his car stereo... gad! I am truly a geek.
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Beam me up
Oh I really enjoyed this well observed (well remembered really) story poem. And I'm afraid I am a female geeky Star Trek fan. I might as well admit it. I once went to a convention. Yes I'm Fun and I am a Trekaholic, but I've managed to get it under control nowadays. Not so much temptation any more. -
i cant take no more i am going to blow. beam me up spotty. ooh its all too much.good job i have a ready supply of gin
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Okay, so you're more into the epic story telling. But Babylon 5 would never have existed without the influence of the grandpa Kirk. You thank your lucky stars, Mister. And I have never once faked a heart attack, so who the hell are you talking to? LOL back atcha!
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LOL. i apologize. like you said, i know it is as serious as a fake heart-attack.
BABYLON 5 RULES!!!!!!! -
I beg your pardon, but you obviously have no respect for the importance of the Horta. "No kill I" okay Guy? Okay!!! If you know your classic Trek, you know it's a much more serious matter. Hee hee.
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like the changes
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Horta, freely translated, means 'butt-kisser.'
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I liked how after the word clarity your poem switched to a great flood, bringing on the rush of those young hot feelings. I think I was taken aback by your Star Trek (what stanza?) but since I'm a fan myself and have been attempting an ode to the Horta (at the request of a pal) I was delighted. In any case, it's all strong imagery, texture and flow. Nice work. Thanks for the introduction to your poetry, my first time co-osting!
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hmmmm... yep, you had me on a couple typos. Hopefully gone now (that's what I get for googoo eying her during freshman English instead of paying attention)
Thanks for the comment. Was an enjoyable walk down the boulevard to reconstruct Have since worked in a smidge more Star Trek heheheh... God! I'm such a geek!
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funny
That's sensational, and the punt at he end, what with the necking ealier also, this all adds up to something special thats it Mayor. -
i remember those days...daze...
but under the bleachers, in an empty classroom, or a friend's back seat.
can't go for the gold in the hallway.
there's one or two typos, but that's just nit-picking.
just love this walk down nostalgia boulevard. remembering i used to be hornier even more than i am now.
great write, chum.
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