Samantha’s mom chauffeured Us there, Since none of us had turned sixteen. We heard Her shout “Have fun!” But never thanked her for the ride. Instead, we hopped out of the van into the morning sun, Eagerly surveyed the scene, Then disappeared inside The grounds, Thus merging with the sights and sounds Of Valleyfair, My childhood amusement park. Our first ride was “The Enterprise.” We climbed aboard and started spinning in an arc Throughout the blue, resplendent skies. And that was fine, although what mattered Was Alyssa in my lap, Her limbs entangled with my own. I was flattered It was me She chose to strap In with. Did it somehow mean that she… Such mysteries remain unknown. “Excalibur” and “Wild Thing” were next. Attempting to impress the girls, I dared My buddy Jeremy To hock a loogie off the top. He did! And once the ride came to a stop, Some ancient park employee (who Was maybe twenty-one or -two) Admonished us repeatedly. (I’m still perplexed By how the hell he even knew.) I was scared We’d be kicked out, but Jeremy was just a kid, And we got off the hook. Morning soon Gave way to noon. For lunch, we found a patch Of grass and ate our sandwiches and chips. The waterpark was next: “Soak City.” The girls showed off their breasts and hips In two-piece suits, their pretty, Adolescent faces once again Creating thrills no waterslide Could match. Us boys, roughhousing in The lazy river, vied For their attention. Sunburned And chlorine-scented after that, We played Some arcade Games of chance, Discovered a convention Center, sat To watch an Irish dance, And rode the log flume Several times. At six, Samantha’s mom returned. Sitting in a circle in Samantha’s room That night, the girls joked The boys should lose their shirts. (“They’re soaked!”) “You first,” we said, But everyone agreed to play A round of spin-the-bottle instead, And, when my turn came, The bottled slowed to…Jeremy. Hooray. Alyssa laughed, “A game’s a game!” So we feigned a silly, overzealous Kiss, and everybody laughed, but then She said, “I’m jealous,” So I spun again, But this time, once it aimed Her way, I stopped it with my palm, And, trying to ignore As best I could the sudden calm, Crawled hands and knees across the floor To kiss her, lightly, on the lips. It could have launched a thousand ships. But in reality, we just turned red, Inflamed By lust, embarrassment, and true love. That night, Miserable with longing, I lay awake in bed, And deemed the day had been “all right.” I still remember those two words. In truth, I was unsatisfied because Time comes in thirds: An always-ending, never-ending instant separates Into what was And what will be: Which means a person recollects, anticipates, But can never truly see The present. And so, the knowledge comes at last: We live to dream about, in youth, The future and, in age, the past.
No posts