“Life Is A Rock (But The Radio Rolled
Me)” played on WCFL when
we decided to drop our underwear.
Sex laid a golden egg on the back seat—
we were determined to hatch it, felt hot
and awkward, said we liked each other’s hard
penises. Penis? So formal, like love
was page 187 in the high
school biology book that had not one
reference to gay sex. It would have been
nice to ring up Oscar Wilde in heaven
and ask “Are we doing it right?” Maybe
he was looking at gutters from the stars.
Mostly we kept our eyes closed as we kissed.