In Line for Cloud 9 

Bridget C. told me

she wanted to jump my bones

and shoved her tongue

down my throat.

She was the first girl

who ever wanted me,

and she was tall and gorgeous,

big brown eyes,

long legs,

short black skirt,

and I couldn’t believe

my luck.

I remember

my hard-on pushing

against the button-fly of my black jeans

and the taste of clove cigarettes

mixed with lipstick

as we waited in line for the club

at Knott’s Berry Farm,

with all the other teenagers,

then made out again later

in a photo booth

and in Joe Hwang’s bedroom

where she let me touch

her breasts.

In a couple weeks

she’d dump me

to get back with her ex-boyfriend, Brian,

and I’d spend the summer brooding in my bedroom

tearing up photo booth memories

and wearing out

Joy Division records,

followed by decades of fleeting romances,

forgotten flings,



none of which I knew about yet

that Saturday night.

Clint Margrave is the author of several books of fiction and poetry, including Lying Bastard, Salute the Wreckage, The Early Death of Men, and Visitor. His work has appeared in The Threepenny Review, Rattle, The Moth, Ambit, and Los Angeles Review of Books, among others.