When a Man Loves a Woman (1966)
It’s a summer night. The kind of summer wherein rain
explodes often enough that the canopies of maples blaze
a miracle-green above and behind the Starlite Motel sign.
I’m sleeping over in a buddy’s boat, listening to WLS-AM
by a state route in Ohio—Percy Tyrone Sledge is crooning
“When a Man Loves a Woman,” the song a dire warning
to the accompaniment of those infamous out-of-tune horns
on the Atlantic hit-single version AM stations are playing.
The DJ is saying this will be the soundtrack for draftees
headed to Vietnam this summer—I know of at least one
boatload of schoolboys who, in succession, try to sing it.
It’s already rained once. We’ve had to dive under tarps.
This is before America broke our hearts—actually while
disappointing the whole lot of us with that godawful war.
Most great songs are no match for a downpour in Ohio,
although tonight one challenges and we call it a draw.
A finalist for the Miller Williams prize, Roy Bentley has published ten books of poetry. His work has appeared in Able Muse, Blackbird, Shenandoah, december, Crazyhorse, The Southern Review, and Prairie Schooner among others. His latest books of poems, Beautiful Plenty, is out from Main Street Rag (2021).