Into the Desert
He had a mouth you could imagine,
lacking the innocence of good looks.
Remove described him.
Wirey, he gave out basketballs
to refugees, he and his buddy.
For there were two, our pride.
When the waitress passed our table,
their heads swiveled.
Hormonal reflex—they honed
every reflex. The rest of the time
they ran. Perimeters mostly,
the encompassing. The Bible reader
entered rooms first as if he were
the attaché himself. The other,
Eliot-lover, stared into the desert.
~ Terese Svoboda,
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