When he told me about the girlfriend
Who had to be choked to get off,
I felt my heart sinking, even
When he added that he couldn’t do it.
In the mown pastures where we meet,
The naive grass is newly soft, unknown
To touch, stunned by the weight
Of our unbelief in each other.
I would set up shop in the growth
Not out of control yet. If she found
This land, I would offer her my well
Water for the desert of her past.
–Shaun Perkins
Rural Oklahoma Museum of Poetry 