Life was raining sea glass
and we cheered each other up
listening to the soft pitter patter
on an old tin, tin, tintin tin tintin roof
watching white cancer paint chips as we ate
taffy and orange sherbet in the summer rain
watching ocean waves

but the smell of our acrid fling
lasts a lifetime
like bitter cigarette smoke
on an old musty couch
or cum stained sheets
in a boarding house
(I would not could not
with a mouse)
your venereal disease lingers
in frozen puddles on my brain
that no spring or summer
can melt
and when spring is gone
winter grips again
muddy hearts
waiting to die

And thank God there weren’t too many kids like us!
Parents couldn’t hit us hard enough
(or often enough).
A red faced principle, holding a two foot wooden paddle with holes in it, breaking out in a sweat
as we laughed at him
“My dad hits me with his fists asshole”.

and he broke my bones
the world broke my spirit
and you broke my heart

bury me deep
so I don’t come back