a smoking gun

when they say it was a smoking gun,

do they really mean to imply a precocious

sexual awakening?

perhaps.

but when i went through puberty,

i never once had pants ignite or even come

close to anthropomorphic global warming. 

the first kiss was all she got from me, well,

and a little of my energy and feistiness, but 

i certainly didn't grow in stature from that single embrace.

she loved me, of course, but it was accompanied

with an undercurrent of suppressed violence.

and her latent hostility should have been adequate to

arouse my sensibilities, but i was still young,

still innocent about death and social intercourse.

or any intercourse, for that matter.

so i concentrated on the high ambitions i held

for myself and that didn't mean i

wanted to use a narcotic or get laid by an older woman.

no, i came from working-class stock, which was strong, 

simple, energetic, warm, but i was no damn fool.

still, she came on to me when i was tired and fearful of

poverty, which put me in a bad way.

the things i did to save myself were simple:  

i did not give a damn about appearances and began
to read liberal newspapers while carrying a black umbrella.
the last time i saw her she was driving a surplus military
jeep to the beach.  she saw me walking along the lane and
stopped to amuse herself.  of course i was without shoes or socks,
but held my umbrella when she said "You are very sweet."
as she drove away, smoke was puffing from her muffler,
almost, i remember thinking, like a smoking gun.