Another dirty martini, please – Poem by Arthur Martinson

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Arthur Martinson – Another dirty martini, please

Two bottles
of Boone’s Farm peach wine
and he called me to the couch.
His head on my thigh, I stroked his hair —
what the Navy let us have!
That was all we did
on peach wine.

Long watches
in the engine room
and I called him to the bench.
I stood behind him, hips to his back
and my arms across his chest.
That was all we did
on the ship.

I saw his
Florida mug shot
just last year; his victims were
12 and 16. My heart stopped again,
just like the very first time
that I felt his eyes
ravish me.

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