Either Side of a Cow

by Chris Buchanan
Poetry, 2014

Our first date was in a field.
We were being quirky,
displaying our uniqueness
in a field.

Either side of a cow
we stood and made jokes,
tried to look natural, as easy
as it did:

this great slab of something,
chamois leather on shapeless
mass, like dropped cement
on stalks.

Its head was a bone shoebox
plastered with hard meat,
holding up a grinder
full of grass

and it got the job done.
We had a good time, laughed
and wetted our mouths
for the day.

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Third Date

by Chris Buchanan
Poetry, 2013

I took Mark to the old reservoir,
put him in the water
and looked for something beautiful.

He powered across the surface
like a Sea World seal
and smiled and made wide ripples.

The view reflected itself and the sun,
playfully shimmered
and it was fine for a few minutes.

His muscles swelled up, cut through.
He flashed and glanced
and tried to remind me he was handsome.

I’d seen it all from dogs and ducks,
diving and flapping
and following men on the bank.

The place was full of my childhood
until I was hungry
and Mark emerged on his own.

We got out some butties and pottered
in through the trees
and I almost forgot to look back.

Then he took me to some secret spot,
sipped at my coffee.
When he caught my eyes I stopped.