RELATIONSHIP Poem: Night to Ourselves, by John Wojtowicz

After checking each other
for spit-up stains, we head to an Italian place,
glasses of red wine, gnocchi,
in a booth by the window.

There’s a flurry or two, Christmas
lights strung across Main.
The marquee on a local theater
seduces: Ultimate Elvis. Tonight Only.

We buy tickets, take our seats
just as the bedazzled impersonator
wraps a scarf around the neck
of a blushing bouffant-haired retiree.

Pompadour swept high, new jumpsuit,
every other song: White Pinwheel,
American Eagle, Orange Sunburst,
Chinese Dragon, Black Conquistador.

With a hip-swivel-pelvic-thrust, Almost-Elvis
belts out “Are You Lonesome
Tonight” and we smile
because tonight, the answer is no.

During “Love Me Tender”, she lays
her head on my shoulder.
At the start of “Heartbreak Hotel,”
I flash my best lip curl.

We kiss, as the man crowned Best of the Midwest
croons, “The Wonder of You”
and tickle each other during “Teddy Bear,”
drawing glares from neighboring blue hairs.

We lip sync “Suspicious Minds”
and “All Shook Up,” passing
an imaginary microphone between us.
Then, we’re on our feet

for “Shake, Rattle, and Roll,” slow dancing
in the aisle to a bellowing encore
of “Can’t Help Falling
in Love”: sunglasses and sideburns.

At home, she puts her finger to my lips,
“A Little Less Conversation,”
pins me down on our full-bed,
which tonight, feels king-sized.