In a V.W. bus
by a beach
aware of distant surfers
the side door open to the cool
humid air
sensing the texture
of the skin of her breasts
in his lap
repeatedly reaching
from awkwardness
and uncertainty
Pahn is allowed
but not welcomed
…
Walking around gravel
parking lots utility
roads of clay
sprinkler
pipes
a
tool barn
the edge of the vineyard
a mutable woman is with him
providing a flow of words
and glances occasional
touch
fading in and out of wife
and friend
and
stranger
Pahn has come to work to water the plants
remembering
only late
that
it is a holiday
and
Yaohwa
would
have watered
already
and
would wonder
why
Pahn is here
But Pahn is doing
a different kind
of irrigation
Leaving the hoses
he goes with the woman
into vines
to lie in the grass
looking
for comfort
and
privacy
…
Now they are coasting down
the
pre-Columbian road
at
the edge of speed
the farmland perched
above the canyons
of Andean proportions
the green
of tropical rain
At the end of their options
is
a covered slide
like
a crooked bridge
where children
of ancient Mexico
once played
(Pahn is
shocked
that
this history has no monument
no
plaque
degrading
into the soil
of
private property)
Unwilling
to give up
the potential sex
he searches
for the hole in the ground
where the children
would
have played
they make forts
and
nests
and
places to hide
Reaching
into the
earth
among the gopher mounds
he finds
a space
like
a bunker
where he could lie
with the mutable woman
with the mutable woman
unseen
to make love
But the time has passed
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