A lovely sad sweet poem by David Trinidad, up on Poetry Foundation today. I think I will have to buy this book.

A Regret

Kurt, early
twenties. Met
him after
an AA
meeting in
Silverlake
(November,
eighty-five).
I remem-
ber standing
with him up-
stairs, in the
clubhouse, how
I checked his
body out.
But not who
approached whom.
Or what we
talked about
before we
leaned against
my car and
kissed, under
that tarnished
L.A. moon.
Drove to my
place and un-
dressed him in
the dark. He
was smaller
than me. I
couldn’t keep
my hands off
his ass. Next
morning, smoked
till he woke,
took him back.
He thanked me
sweetly. I
couldn’t have
said what I
wanted, though
must have known.
Drove home and
put him in
a poem
("November")
I was at
the end of.

Later that
day it rained
(I know from
the poem).

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“A Regret” from The Late Show (Turtle Point Press, 2007). © 2007 by David Trinidad. Used by permission of author.

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