and i don’t even know
how i am doing it
prancing to the playground
calling dibs on the swings
hanging fancy words
on the jungle gym bars
flipping my hair forever free
from real-life verbs
like rush and race
i go hunting-up some honey
which is always given
after i learned how to poise
my asking to approximate
kindness i simply need
to borrow from the bees
and pay no attention to
Jon Lucas, the pissy pirate
to all the pretty posey girls
(he only likes saying I can see your underwear)
in the whole scheme of things
what you think is the next to
the last thing, never really is
Jon, if you keep on twirling
10,000 more days, months, or
years, — honest to god this is
the easiest way,
It wasn’t a fence we wanted to jump
but a bridge we wanted to ride.
Every man, woman, teen or toddler
in Abilene went down low water
bridge one way or another.
One time, a kid rolled his trike down
&got a spanking from his Grandma
when he got home. Bigger high school
boys tested their skateboarding skills
down low water, pushing aside worries
over washout holes &no helmets.
Another time, a man put his VW bug
in neutral to see if he would come out
on the other side without any juice.
Even I rode down low water almost
every single day on my girl’s bike
with two quarters tucked under
my fingers to pay admission to the
swimming pool on the other side.
I had my terms: I’d pull up hard
on the handlebars, gain enough speed
straight-up pedaling like a devil or else
get off my bike &walk in shame
with one of mom’s bath towels hanging
around my neck. If it didn’t rain, if
low water didn’t get washed out I mean,
I’d pedal to swim in the pool, or else
I’d swim &fish for crawdads right there
in Mud Creek. Either way, Mother Nature
wanted my feet to get wet that summer.
At Jennifer’s house there were Barbie’s I neither liked nor understood. Also a poofy dog.
At Jennifer’s house we ate salad with oil & vinegar dressing, but her mom got cancer. So salad didn’t count for much, did it?
At Jennifer’s house there was an upstairs bathroom. We poured liquids from her mom’s medicine cabinet into the bathtub to get a good fizz going, but once we walked in on her mom connecting something to her private parts over the toilet with a string or a tube, so instead we went outside to hang upside-down on her swing set and laughed at this other girl for letting her boobies show when she tried to do like we did.
Between Jennifer’s house and mine was a tree I made her climb and she broke her leg. She still let me come over after that, and even after I told her to get naked for no apparent reason. Of course, I blamed the naked Barbie’s.
At Jennifer’s house I vacuumed her mom’s rug, which may have made up for my terrible lack of judgment and bossiness as her superior nine-year old neighbor. Jennifer moved away after she got off her crutches.
Jennifer invited me to her new house and her dad let us run behind his truck with the tailgate down so we could hop in the back.
Jennifer’s mom didn’t live in the new house. She wasn’t living at all. Their poofy dog was there. None of it made any sense.
i am the lizard
i am great Houdini
[my old lizard poem I once hated, but
changed my mind. submitted to Real Toads,
NaPoWriMo & Poetic Asides]