Young woman delivering the word
door to door: I was lonely, invited you in.
The time being short, we mustn’t waste it,
drop of semen, speck of dust. Yada-yada.
My father’s tanned arm out the car window, his hand
cupping the rush of cool air, then letting it go.
I have never met an angel, but I imagine
their wings under clothes, hymenopterous.
Here, my lucky number, sit a spell.
It will take awhile for the wave to reach us.