The Dredger

When he took me to his room, that afternoon,
I was expecing miracles, revelations, and perhaps
just a small sexual adventure, Nothing definite,
nothing final, just a beginning. He closed the door,
he walked across the slightly worn beige carpet.
“Look” he said, “here” I followed eagerly.
His hand pointed at a large boat in a glass case.
I stood there, bewildered. I knew nothing of boats.
“It’s very nice,” I said., and faltered. He sighed,
and led me to the bed.. There were a few kisses,
very perfunctory kisses, I knew I’d failed.
He suggested we join the family again, downstairs.

Years later, I would have known what to do.
I would have exclaimed in wonder at the perfection
of the model, even clasped my hands girlishly,
gazed into his eyes, asked questions, wanting to know
about the tonnage, the funnels, the dimensions.
All the things that didn’t occur to me then,
I just didn’t know that the way to his heart
was through a boat.


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