Professor Stevenson, 1992

Twenty years, is it so much
time to make love
impossible? If so, pity
us. I can imagine lying
my head in your lap
next to that oak tree, your fingers
idle in my hair, Keats pouring
out of your lips, my eyes
quiet. Truly, you could
be my father, and we would raise
more than one eyebrow,
walking - arms linked - to battle
family weddings and faculty
lunches. I can handle
whispers, can you?

There is a coffee place near campus called Cupz. It's a great place to get material - people meet in there and chat with one another about the craziest stuff. The other day I listened to these two girls talk about their professor and how the one girl really thought that after the semester was over he was going to ask her out. "He's ONLY 20 years older than me" she said. "21" said the other, "and he has a WIFE." And so, a poem.