That Loose Girl

I drive along Whippoorwill
With humming girl strapped down
In the grey Honda hulk
Of metal and plastic and
We pass the 14th fairway of
A country club to which no one
I know belongs, and it’s so early
That the only player is
An arc of pressurized water
Iodized by the sun and
Falling on bluegrass.
And it isn’t
Water I see, but
Myself I feel,
Washing down,
Transforming for one
Time-shifted second
Into that loose girl
Who did
Carry nothing but
One bag of wood and metal
On her back and felt
The expanse of
Spring like a
Long walk on
Ignorant grass.

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