Research: Journals
The Journal
Past Issues
28.2
Mary Giaimo
WeddingThere was a Black Horse Pike.
There was a White Horse Pike.
They bordered the salt marshes
of South Jersey,
flesh of bogs
mingled with the sweat of the sea,
casinos rose against the blank sky.
In the night a whippoorwill
repeated itself repeated itself repeated
highwaymen highwaymen highwaymen
nocturnal goatsucker. A small white
house in the pine barrens,
across the road an untended blueberry
field, bees, syrup, sun.
This is where he brought his bride.
Watch him, he drinks, he
likes vodka. The ones
he tries to forget, the rapacious
ones, the child suckers. His
blond head a liquid sun.
He'd come through the field after her
big blue cock in hand
turtledove
turtledove
come live with me
and be my love
