Two Poems by Lyn Lifshin

THOSE LOVERS

some, lets say the first,
you stop eating for,
call at the last moment
If you are 13, you’re sure
you can’t live without
them. Or you work on
science projects fever-
ishly, aching for the
phone. Some join the
Navy, send you cheap
Cuban coins from there
S.W.A.K. on the box.
His uniform makes you
heady. Weeks of kisses
in his navy blues and
then on leave, he shrugs
when asked if you should
wear a stole and never
again is heard from.
Some take you out in
a filed, then upstairs in
the hotel where you let
him peel off spray rhine
stone earrings and the
stretchy wool dress
with net and sparkles.
And when you don’t
let them peel your hymen
from what’s still holding
it, don’t call again. Some
you never cared for but
needed a date for some prom.
Others are so insistent it’s
easy to waste a night or two
with them. The ones that
are too shy to call, you
feel their eyes burning
thru you. Some would be
lovers call from the Vatican
or Notre Dame say they have
their vows but would you send
something that’s been close to you
like your unwashed underwear

***

SOME LOVERS

ask if you’d marry
them if they asked but
don’t ask. Leave a note
on your door: they
want to catch up
(which means a blow
job). Some think
you can help them
with your poetry.
Some think you are
your poems. Some
that you fantasize and
want the most, can’t
be seduced, not
even in dreams. You
give them what no
one else can in poems
where they will always
be fit and young
and they give you
dark blues