You’d never see it today
but back in ‘69 a kissing booth
at Oak Cliff Carnival
brought in money hand over fist
for Red Cross’ Emergency
Tornado Relief Fund.
Nineteen-year-old Molly Stone,
Miss Fourth of July Fire Cracker,
boldly stood selling kisses—
one dollar for up to six seconds.
A lengthier kiss cost you five.
I was just a kid and she
way out of my class, but I had
twenty dollars to spend.
I screwed up my courage, got in line.
A couple of dollar kisses
nearly made me faint. She laughed
when I returned for a third
and slipped her a five.
Last time in line I handed her
a ten, whispered Can you make me
remember this one the rest of my life?
She grinned and hung one on me
that’s stuck in my memory to this day—
tongue and soft lips and serious grind,
a train crash, locomotive hurled
into trees, setting my woods on fire!
I was so dizzy when Molly let go,
my buddies had to grab me by the arms
and help me stagger to the car.
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