Final Night at the Sunset Drive-In
by Kristy Bowen
And what else to do with a girl
with a mouth like a dirty book,
a burnt-out car. Blue limbs
tangling the windshield and every-
thing tilted and still. This isn’t porno,
it’s a love story--tongues everywhere
and desultory lines. A woman on
the screen keens like a broken radio.
This one tastes like Americana,
the burnished chrome of dashboard
instruments. Flip-flopped hat-check girl,
her skirt fussy and florid over her face.
Her breath, all orange crush and flicker.