HEAT

In Belarus, the fourteen-year-olds one thin flight away

Heard Oswald singing in the shower,

In his cool American. It was 1959. In crush

They sent a note to say how sweet

A songbird he was then.

Dear Girls, he wrote, I want very much to meet you, too.

Four Novembers later not far from West Virginia, we were scooped

Back home from elementary school in rain not-quite-yet snow

To put our heads down in the mink-skin of our mothers’ laps.

                         Open Carry is the law in Oklahoma now.

I just feel more safe, said Joe Wood, cocked

Among the waffles and the syrups and the diners

At the diner there. On the jukebox, Lefty Frizzell

Is singing “Long Black Veil” inside the flannel rain.

Well back beyond the Iron Curtain, I write to you tonight

From Minsk, where no child will ever cry into my lap, all seal

And cashmere, chintz. I put my eye against the peephole

Drilled so long ago through Oswald’s bedroom wall

And see the leafless world all quietened.

               My little gun’s a Lady one. I just want to feel secure

And I’m probably dead on. I want very much

                         To meet you. I would be, as ever, yours.