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       Poontang

"Poontang, poontang,
goin' ta get some poontang!"
Ted is hanging out of the car window
slapping the side of the door
in time with the street lights
cutting through the humid air.
It seems too cold to have the window down
or to be so humid.
Steve shoots a glance from the corner
of his eye but doesn't tell Ted
to quit being a jackass.
Alan's got his knees together
in the middle of the back seat
and he's chugging a warm beer
because it foamed all over him
when he cracked it and we all called him
a wet-dreamer and a pussy-wipe.
When he's done
and pushes his glasses back up onto his face
and gives that weak beaten smile,
Curt and I slap him on the back and grin.
His lips are still as red
as when we used to make him chug 7-11 cherry slurpys
until he bent double over the sidewalk
coughing and gagging.
That was last summer.

Curt and I each crack another one,
hastily sucking foam
before anyone sees it run down the can.
There's a tacky yeast smell in the back seat now,
the scent of manhood and victory.
Ted told me once that's what cunt smells like too,
but I don't believe him.
Steve's the only one of us who would know,
(Curt says he did both Sara and Lisa
at the same time
in this very back seat),
but he don't talk about it.
So instead we drink the beer he got with our money
and let him lead us,
drive us around town,
in search of easy chicks,
the kind with pasty skin and plump asses
who will push back their hair while letting us
run our hands over their breasts during the movie
and will reciprocate when we stick our
tongues into their throats
behind the bowling alley in the cold.
Curt says cold turns 'em on.

Steve slips a Marlboro between his lips
guarded by the shadow of his moustache.
He sparks his Zippo and then flips it closed
into a pocket of his black leather jacket.
Ted finally settles down into his seat,
though he keeps pounding on the door
along with the street lights,
the bumps in the road,
the staticy rock and roll on the radio.
Steve blows a lung-full of smoke
against the rearview mirror and it twists
back between the seats and against Alan's glasses;
Alan's knuckles whiten around his beer
and he rests his shiny forehead
against his elevated knees.
I glance at Curt and catch him
flicking a booger onto the floormat
and he shows me his teeth.
I nod towards Alan
bent over between us.
Curt shrugs, slaps him on the back,
and goes back to drinking beer.

We've passed all the street lights now;
I can see the moonlit woods on either side of us.
Headlights going the other way blind us all
and I can hear Alan gag.
He manages to keep it down.

We pull off into a little park by the river.
Steve goes up into the trees towards the cemetery.
We wait by the car,
throwing stones from the gravel parking lot
trying to hit the water.
Alan wanders away into the shadows.
He comes back a couple minutes later
rubbing his lips against the back of his hand
and not looking me in the eye.
He smells strongly of beer
and fast food and sour apples.
I zip up my jacket, hunch my shoulders,
and stamp my feet.
Curt drinks another beer and tries to crush the can
against his forehead.
He says "Ow," and then "Fuck,"
and sucks at the base of his thumb.
Headlights leave the cemetery and then Steve comes
back and slips a brown-paper bulge
out of his jacket and into the trunk.
He says, "Alright, let's go."
We don't ask.

We go to the movie theatre next.
Ted gets the tickets 'cause he's 17 now.
Steve finds 4 girls looking at the movie posters.
He talks to them and by the time we get over to him
he's leaving with two of them.
Ted talks to the other two
while I watch Steve's car
pull out of the parking lot,
rev twice, and drive away,
brake lights flashing once at the corner.
Curt catches my eye and slides a finger
in and out of his fist. I nod,
and see that one of the girls saw the motion too.
Alan goes into the bathroom.

When we get into the theatre, the girls sit together
with Curt and Ted on either side.
I sit back a row and Alan sits next to me.
Occasionally I catch a whiff of puke.
The movie has a lot of shooting but not as much sex
as the poster implied.
Ted keeps whispering to one of the girls
and she giggles and then turns to look back
at the exit.
She is eating popcorn with her mouth open.
Ted tries to cop a feel and she slaps his hand away;
a minute later she is giggling again.
Alan's got his head between his knees again
and Curt's picking his nose again
thinking that no one can see
and suddenly it is really hot.
The screen blurs and then swims clear.
I stand and walk up the aisle with my head down,
rubbing my wet palms against my jeans.
I jog to the door of the lobby and burst
into the parking lot, dragging in huge gasps
of clear, sharp air.
I lean forward and put my hands on my thighs,
feet apart,
eyes closed.
I can feel sweat running down
my back and the insides of my arms.
An old man walks by and says,
"Take it easy there, Sonny."

It's not humid outside anymore;
it's just cold.

--Z.T. Jan 16, 1999

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