Incendiary Lit

Loitering for Dawn
by Patrick Carrington

I’ve been waiting on the beach since three.
Chased from the Ugly Mug by last call,
from the boardwalk by cherrytops
I walked the streets with cats—I hide

from the night patrols behind plywood
that leans against its future,
cabana windows it will veil for winter,
and watch surf fishers arrive to set their lines

in the Atlantic. As I stare off at Ireland
smoking Marlboros down to the filter,
the night has pity and misbehaves for me—

she undresses her diamonds, jewels of fine
karat to consider for play or purchase.
Tempted, I resist the urge to strip for her,

to walk naked to the water and let her lick
me clean, to swim into her dark, wet love
or perhaps even back home
to Bantry Bay. In needy times like this, I
actually think I might make it. I zip my coat

and notions and save myself from the dawn.
The hours could be spent at better profit,
I suppose. But I fear
the morning sky, without a suitor,
might find no reason to unfasten her robe.

“Loitering for Dawn” was originally published in Cairn, (aka the St. Andrews Review). I liked this poem because it was relatable. Though I’d never personally hung out after a late night drunk and waited on the beach for sunrise, it sounds like something I would do. The imagery is really sweet too. This just barely missed the cut into our “Better Than the Movies” anthology for 2007, which we’ll hopefully be posting within the next couple weeks in one form or another.