50, this is soooo old

I didn't have a girlfriend when I was seventeen, that explains a lot.

 

Certain Verses in Leviticus, Deuteronomy and Corinthians

 

This is the secret defining thing

(and by the end,

you'll know what it is

tho i'll never tell)

 

This is the every look-away glance

Every time I met a her's eyes

 

This the particular peculiar section in the bookstore

That I walk around, beside but never

Through

(have you figured

it out?)

 

This is being seventeen, being so alive in such a spring, being in love and

ashamed

 

This is acquiring a code language

That I never studied, or even asked for

Quavering constantly on the precipice of my tongue

Unsure whether to deploy these verbal bombs

Or just hold the hot words in my mouth.

 

This is never getting it right.

 

(Hint. Toaster ovens, three dollar bills. being earnest, chickens and handkerchiefs)

 

This is being embarrassed that part of my identity revolves around

The who of whose hips I watch swing steady down the hall

 

(You've probably figured it out, haven't you?)

 

This is returning to certain verses in Leviticus, Deuteronomy and Corinthians

Till my fingers memorize the onion-skin pages and

Open them wantonly, without intent

And rereading (I can't remember reading)

For an answer, a sensible solution.

 

This is the way I never find any.