the last dance in laredo

did curtsey deeply as

shadows cut from

twin-finned cadillac’s

headlights in robust

summer swelter. dress

stuck to legs slick with

sweat and lotion; he

doffed old ten-gallon,

pulled at his collar, said

“gosh” too many times.

“gosh you’re beautiful”

“gosh it’s hot out”

every insect was there.

from the car radio blared

bill mack; they held

close on moonlit country

road, softly swayed,

pressed palms, lived.

jcb