The Astronaut Won First Prize

In the beginning I was thirsty
She gave me water to drink
parked under a bridge
by the river
everything drenched with April rain
Soaked
in kisses promises possibilities
spouting an endless fountain
Saturated giddy
drunk with I-love-yous
guzzled from our mouths’ embrace
both bare chested
standing in the rain
Desert people
are hoarding water in clay pots
steeped in shadows
covered with lids
How dare they threaten our right to abundance

Later
in July
things are drying up now
Love has become a number
107
pounds
she worships
and I must follow
her into the bathroom
where I hand her a large plastic container
carries water from the bathtub faucet
fills it up faster
so she can drink that down
and replace vital fluids when she throws up
all that food I helped her steal
on a late night super market run

It’s OK I’ve got my space suit on
can’t feel a thing
I’m Buck Rogers
here to save the day
I’m the alien invader
studying her watching her
flip over into a handstand
against the door
so she can get those damn cookies up

We watch the actresses and models
all dying on TV
and if I should look two seconds too long
at Bridget Fonda
she’s out the front door
running down the street
3AM
barefoot in her robe
She comes back
with roses
water
one dew drop caught on the petal
of her pouting lip is all we have to
drink tonight
but we tell ourselves it’s enough
It’s OK
Tomorrow
maybe 107 will come

She makes love to me with her clothes on
but who am I to question
wearing my space suit
breathing safe air inside my suit
made of jet age plastic
so nothing can touch me
or hurt me inside I drink my own recycled urine
and tell her I’d gladly savor hers
I’d settle for any drop
of moisture
she could possibly provide
waiting for
worshiping
the second coming of
106
pounds

Now I know how to love the veins crouched around her
hip bones pointed
in defiance like the
horns of a mighty ox
She gores me with jealousy
I bleed for her
for us
Liquid we can taste
so much liquid
coming up from her stomach
and flushed away
We both must keep filling
the plastic container with water

Try to rest on her hard
smooth plastic surfaces
but I slide off quickly like rain
She looks just how
a loving caring person
would act
so concerned about me and my problems
Surely I couldn't be fooled by a manic kin me
could I
be the one in love with her adolescent beauty
looks like a fourteen year old girl
or a boy
wearing my baseball hat turned around backwards
torn jeans and a tee shirt
So sleek and life like
starving child
I am suckling
her bony chest
feel my thirst never ceases
skimming and gliding
on her bone
jutting out
in the museum of women
who never grow
soft round places
who never grow up
They stick out hard
into the world
like men
who stop and see safe surfaces
to display their vain ideas

She sucks herself into a black PVC plastic
waist cincher
so shiny
twenty inches
no more
no less
My trembling hands circle her
there
is not a drop of her left
for me to swallow
The river is a sad memory
under a bridge that screams suicide
Still I want to believe in all her
hard velvety glistening surfaces
so easy and manageable
to make things up
I want to accept trading water
for plastic
can comfort
this thirst

Maybe if I had a nice home
new car
wallet full of no limit plastic
I could forget
that I treasured
106
and filled the plastic container
overflowing
with all the water
we ever had
were ever given
to share
in the sandbox
of our love

In my space suit
visiting the earth
for the last time
I know I can’t save any one
and I’ll never go home
Sometimes I take it off feel the sun the sadness
collect new rain on my face
Then I see the thirsting people
so polished and smooth
trading their water
for plastic
I’ve come to count on
plastic everywhere
touching me
protecting me
holding me tight

Watch him fill up the plastic container
space drunk stretched to the Outer Limits
Remember in sixth grade
the astronaut won first prize
(is it a boy or a girl)

I slip inside my space suit again
and vow to go back to the moon