Erica Ehrenberg
LetÕs make a deal.
You give me that mushroom
and IÕll hem
a scent into my skirt
so you can track me down.
Give me the mushroom farm,
and weÕll get married.
Horses named Delilah
and Alfonse, and IÕm sure
I could get you a kid or two.
You bring the million dollar
alligator, and IÕll bring
the contract. IÕll bring the headgear,
the goggles, and the drill,
and we can break ground right there
and spare no glance back
over the mountains your plane
tore through to get here, a mere scratch
next to what my bulldozer can do.
She was nine years old,
and in love.
ÒAll I want is to talk to him
on a seaside rock. The talk
will be loveÕs pinnacle
unfurling like a great animal,
arching its back in the surf.Ó
She was invited to his house,
empty but for a housekeeper
she could hear, but not see,
moving between the kitchen
and the half-open doors
down the corridor.
ÒCome in here,Ó he said,
pointing to a room with a dachshund
and a tv. He switched it on
and a naked woman was dancing
in an orange light.
ÒWatch this!Ó cried the boy,
grabbing her from behind,
holding her eyes open
as if his hands on her face
were a mask.
Then he vanished, and came back
in a dress stuffed with grapefruits,
brandishing a sword.
ÒI am going to lay you down
on the floor and cut all your hair off!Ó
he cried, straddling her, while a grapefruit
rolled toward the dog.
There, under the pressure
of his thighs, she flipped
herself over, looked him in the eye,
and with a shiver of joy
replied, ÒAt last, we have a secret!Ó