An upright abutment in the mouth <br />of the Willis Avenue bridge <br />a beige Honda leaps the divider <br />like a steel gazelle inescapable <br />sleek leather boots on the pavement <br />rat-a-tat-tat best intentions <br />going down for the third time <br />stuck in the particular <br /> <br />You cannot make love to concrete <br />if you care about being <br />non-essential wrong or worn thin <br />if you fear ever becoming <br />diamonds or lard <br />you cannot make love to concrete <br />if you cannot pretend <br />concrete needs your loving <br /> <br />To make love to concrete <br />you need an indelible feather <br />white dresses before you are ten <br />a confirmation lace veil milk-large bones <br />and air raid drills in your nightmares <br />no stars till you go to the country <br />and one summer when you are twelve <br />Con Edison pulls the plug <br />on the street-corner moons Walpurgisnacht <br />and there are sudden new lights in the sky <br />stone chips that forget you need <br />to become a light rope a hammer <br />a repeatable bridge <br />garden-fresh broccoli two dozen dropped eggs <br />and a hint of you <br />caught up between my fingers <br />the lesson of a wooden beam <br />propped up on barrels <br />across a mined terrain <br /> <br />between forgiving too easily <br />and never giving at all.<br /><br />Audre Lorde<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/making-love-to-concrete/
