Pinky Swear

Poetry by Diane Martin. "Maybe a pinky swear’s as good as a wedding, but this one / was doomed, even though you inscribed toujours on / the Waste Land transcript you bought me for my birthday."

Author’s Note: In the late 60s, when I was a teenager, we were all anti-war—the war in Vietnam. The guys had to register for the draft as soon as they turned eighteen. The you of this poem opted to join the Navy, although it was a six-year tour of duty, betting that it would be safer than fighting in a ground war. When he got out, he had nowhere to go, so he came to live with me (and five other girls), near my university. Sure, he said he loved me.