I think of this JanisJoplinlonghair, low-slungcorduroy,California flip-flop,cello-playing boy.His hair swung    like a tiki barcurtain,        the fringe of aflapper dress            across my leg.Together in a twinbedthat hair was a shadeand I was a windowand the tassel, frommy neck to my navel, pulled        Itself        down.How many one-night stands do you remember?        How many do you care to recount?That boy played like nothing we... Continue Reading →