Not Krakow, North Hampton

We travel, but this isn’t Krrraaakkkkkkkkow.
We’re outside of North Hampton.

Caught in a snow storm. We have no money,
Meaning, very little

So we rent a room for the night
And the only one available comes with a whirlpool tub.

Through the storm, I drive to the convenience store.
Shit. The condoms are behind the counter

And I have to ask for them by name.
The kid at the register

Has a cigarette in his ear.
There is a teenage girl standing in line behind me.

“I had four guys come in earlier,”
He tells me.

“Prom night. And not one of them
Not one

Bought rubbers.”
I pushed a can of Red Bull to him.

“Shame on the new generation.
Now here’s a man. Red Bull and rubbers,”

I didn’t look at the girl but she leaned around to look.
Back at the hotel,

I held her up in the bubbles
While we turned the jets on.

“I’ve never done this before,”
She said.

“It feels good. I mean,
It really feels good.”

She came, once again expressing surprise,
and I went to the bed. The sheets were paper stiff.

We made love and then,
darkened the swirl with half-accidental drops of malbec.

We stood up, inside, shadow pink and shadow blue,
neon and suds with lights moving and water moving.

You asked if I’d take it personally if you went
Back to the whirlpool tub.

No. I took it as a sign of respect.
My heart was beating too quickly.

From the distance, in the deep shadows,
You looked reptilian in the bare light.

*

We stood naked by the window
And looked across the road.

A sign read: Special.
Beef with oven baked noodles 9.95.

Urgh, you said.
That’s expensive, I said.

Nothing special about it.
“Disgusting,” you said.

And the snow fell thick as fingerbones
And we took to the bed.

You were cold, but indulged me
And stayed naked under the sheets.

We were stuck outside of North Hampton.
We couldn't tell the cars, one from another, hills and drifting hills.

There was a painting on the wall, a flower,
And I must say, it wasn’t bad.

“So . . . I came three times tonight,” you said.
“that’s some kind of record for us.”

“You love the whirlpool,” I said, teasing.
And what shadows crept in moved from the wall to the rug

And the water burped and made for the drain
the water, circling shadows large to small,

Among shadows like wings,
a starlet at the window, a buzzard on the northern wall.