Before school Harrison Ford kisses
my adventurous forehead, lips, breasts
Indiana tells me we must do it, do it, do it
I’m not that kind of girl, I giggle
driving in a red convertible flashing
past watchful angels sitting on treetops
sliding down water slicked glass streets
that circle through the lost center of town
where my high school sits, I can’t be late

Mother leans over me, wake up it’s time
for school girl, shut off the damn alarm
did you do your homework assignment
last night, study for your chemistry test
today yeah, yeah, yeah, Dean & I spent
all night on the periodic table
the elements are burned inside
my mind & body: K is kiss me, He is
hold me, Fl is falling in love

One windy August night, 9 weeks later
we’re in the backseat of Dean’s car
parked in a cornfield, tall stalks ranting
and waving against a hot, naked Indiana
full moon, my reflection in the car’s
window shows me I am that kind of girl
I’m not the first in my class
to find my awakening inside
a boy’s dreamy plum sweet softness
before I realize I’ve lost yesterday