Allen Fraser Clark captures the frustration and desire of young men, eager for sexual expression and frightened by it.
Nowhere to Go
When you surprised me with an invitation, I didn’t know
what to expect. Even less so when you came by my dorm
in your new Malibu convertible. Your blond hair, with a hard
Vitalis part on the left, one perfect flick of the comb to catch
the natural wave. We wore matching chinos, sun-bleached,
my shirt madras, yours blue seersucker a shade less intense
than your eyes. The movie, your pick—The Endless Summer—
endless flesh, really. Enough that in the dark, our hands
and then our knees touched, only to jerk away. It was
just an accident. After the movie, you drove along the canal
on the edge of town looking for a place with enough trees,
a canebrake, anything. Kept muttering things like, “Not here.
No, someone might see.” With the lust of twenty summers
apiece, no money for a motel, we rode around until the stars fell
to the bottom of the sky.
Allen Clark has contributed to The Good Men Project before. Read Tai Sao?
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