"The Poet's Corner..."

A Regret

By David Trinidad

Kurt, early

twenties. Met

him after

an AA

meeting in

Silverlake

(November,

eighty-five).

I remem-

ber standing

with him up-

stairs, in the

clubhouse, how

I checked his

body out.

But not who

approached whom.

Or what we

talked about

before we

leaned against

my car and

kissed, under

that tarnished

L.A. moon.

Drove to my

place and un-

dressed him in

the dark. He

was smaller

than me. I

couldn’t keep

my hands off

his ass. Next

morning, smoked

till he woke,

took him back.

He thanked me

sweetly. I

couldn’t have

said what I

wanted, though

must have known.

Drove home and

put him in

a poem

("November")

I was at

the end of.

Later that

day it rained

(I know from

the poem).

From The Late Show, published by Turtle Point Press.

Copyright © 2007 by David Trinidad.