in relation

it always begins
quicker
than i can imagine,

like a late friday night,
mid january,
in an empty pool hall,
in oak park, illinois.

her legs are legs,
and her ass
is the table.

i just want to go home

and the next thing i know
is that i'm jilted
in a red car,
gleaming
past a reservation
in the northeast corner
of arizona,
right where some navajo
sells rugs
on the border of new mexico,

we speculate
on the time
that we will cross
the threshold
of albuquerque, new mexico.

we were not even lost.

and two years later
i wake up
in her bed,
in chicago,
on the corner of belden & sacramento
and the only thing
that i can remember
is this dream.