Jonathan Hayes

On the West Side

we sat on a wooden bench by the Hudson River

the ripples of the river glistened from the moonlight

I commented how beautiful her big gold earrings were
said that her name, Tara, meant earth goddess

then her eyes asked me to kiss her 

next we were behind the bushes and under a canopy of trees
pulling down our pants, fumbling onto the park grass

catching twigs in our hair
she said, “I’m going to fuck you white boy”

as a metal lamppost glowed faintly

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