Labor Day

 Requiring something lovely on his arm
Took me to Stamford, Connecticut, a quasi-farm,
His family's; later picking up the mammoth
Girlfriend of Charlie, meanwhile trying to pawn me off
On some third guy also up for the weekend.

But Saturday we still were paired; spent
It sprawled across that sprawling acreage
Until the grass grew limp
with damp.
 Like me.
 Johnston-baby, I can still see
The pelted clover, burrs' prickle fur and gorged
Pastures spewing infinite tiny bells.
 You pimp.

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