Love at First Sight
By Carlos Cardona
I don't believe in "love at first sight",
That childish, maudlin notion that deep longing brings,
How would you know, from just one glance,
If they're smart and funny, kinky and spiritual,
Whether they love Shakespeare and dancing,
Carmen, The Dead, Manhattan and bikes?
Lust, on my other hand, is totally different.
In at most 2 seconds the man of experience knows
Much about a woman's most delightful moments,
He knows how it would start, continue, climb and finish,
The depth and degree of it, and what games he wants to play,
He knows how long he will maintain this interest.
This is a fun game, but much better is when, like now,
I see you clearly in my mind's eye,
And hear a needle scratching right off my record with desire,
And am trapped by a thousand images of taste and smell and touch,
Hot flashes running up my spine and making me dizzy,
A bit nervous like I might faint and fall into some black hole
And find God like some old hippie waiting on the other side with,
"Hey, Mescalito, wanna hit?"
And so I begin to wonder if desire, if instincts can come
Could continue to climb this bank of You,
That Nirvana would not be any different than
Sweet lovemaking with you, my divine surrogate,
Every second of every day,
(Coming up weekly for Duck Soup and the Times.)