I'm back from New York City. It's good to be home. It's Poetry Friday, so here I will share a little piece of my time in the city by posting a poem that I had the privilege of hearing the author, Dave Johnson, read during the Poetry In The Branches Institute at Poets House last week. The rest of the Poetry Friday roundup can be found at GottaBook. Head on over, read, and post!


CHEATING

We got on the train together
at the end of the line.
Alone, we eyed each other.
At each stop more
and more people got on.
I looked at all of them.
Some of them handsome,
some pretty sharp
and hard, some
with soft features.
One or two were out
and out beautiful.
But each time
I would look back at you,
and you would catch me and wait
until one of us had to cut away.
This went on and on into Manhattan.
And as sweet and tempting
as all the new riders looked,
I couldn't stop watching you.
The more and more stops
we made together,
the more I knew, we were becoming attached.
By the time we made it to Chinatown we had a history
and I knew there was no turning back
I also knew, if I looked
at another, too long,
without coming back to you,
it would officially be, cheating,
and this, I could never do.
By the time we got to the West Village
we both were holding on
for the inevitable.
We're talking long beyond anticipation here.
I was sweating the way men will,
right before they give
all they've got,
because they know,
even the most animalistic,
that they are just before doing something
they can no longer control,
and no matter what
words slip out of them
they will not be enough
to explain what is happening.
At 51st street the doors
opened quickly
and with the rush
of the midtown crush hour,
you stared hard, like you too
were giving off
a sweat
-a teeth grinding, lip curling
way back inside the mouth so
the nose holes can swell
and flare to get the deepest
lung suck possible sweat-
that you too, were not fully, understanding.
And with a drop of your eyes
you grabbed the center pole and were shuffled
throught the doors.
You were gone and I was left with
my mouth in the shape
of an imperfect O.
I am telling this because
I wanted you to know.
The whole time we were together,
I was never cheating on you.
And as hard as it was to let you go,
I rode with you, way past,
my stop.

Dave Johnson