public transport
Posted: Wed Nov 09, 2005 5:00 pm
In a field between two train tracks
I lay down
my anorak beneath the scant shade
of a lone lopped tree
kneeling I watch amused
as you attempt to scale the stunted monolith
the wind rutting deep under ripples of shirt and soft brown skin
till I am utterly convinced by your virility
satisfied you dismount your lank hair steaming like a horse’s
flanks and begin to roll yourself
a cigarette; I lean back slightly savouring
my body’s swift responses and wait for yours
to follow suit
the sky is sticky with the last rays of summer
and the steady intermittent pulsing on the railway
ferrying city workers south
to warmer climes
at last you become aware of the molten glaze
diffusing my face and I take hold and push you back gently
onto the dew-spangled tufts
your hands cold against my belly warm me below
and I arch my back to behold the impressive outcrop above
its stark protuberance serving
less to shield us than to pull the focus of dog-walkers
and distant footballers
our breaths accelerate with the motion of fingers
and tongues combining
mastery of skill with the sensitive poise
of fine-tuned machinery
as
two trains
approach from opposite ends
of the field
drowning us into their ritual
beat with faceless
recognition
to meet in the middle
an explosion of sonic arousal
speeding the performance to a neat
punctual
climax
we are sculpted
square on to the sky
aware of our audience
as the earth and the tree
unashamed in natural communion
while children dangle home from school
peppering the park with colourful cries
we zip ourselves up
and watch the seasons
changing
I lay down
my anorak beneath the scant shade
of a lone lopped tree
kneeling I watch amused
as you attempt to scale the stunted monolith
the wind rutting deep under ripples of shirt and soft brown skin
till I am utterly convinced by your virility
satisfied you dismount your lank hair steaming like a horse’s
flanks and begin to roll yourself
a cigarette; I lean back slightly savouring
my body’s swift responses and wait for yours
to follow suit
the sky is sticky with the last rays of summer
and the steady intermittent pulsing on the railway
ferrying city workers south
to warmer climes
at last you become aware of the molten glaze
diffusing my face and I take hold and push you back gently
onto the dew-spangled tufts
your hands cold against my belly warm me below
and I arch my back to behold the impressive outcrop above
its stark protuberance serving
less to shield us than to pull the focus of dog-walkers
and distant footballers
our breaths accelerate with the motion of fingers
and tongues combining
mastery of skill with the sensitive poise
of fine-tuned machinery
as
two trains
approach from opposite ends
of the field
drowning us into their ritual
beat with faceless
recognition
to meet in the middle
an explosion of sonic arousal
speeding the performance to a neat
punctual
climax
we are sculpted
square on to the sky
aware of our audience
as the earth and the tree
unashamed in natural communion
while children dangle home from school
peppering the park with colourful cries
we zip ourselves up
and watch the seasons
changing