Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lineshe wrote a poemAnd he called it “Chops”because that was the name of his dogAnd that’s what it was all about.And his teacher gave him an A and a gold starAnd his mother hung it on the kitchen doorand read it to his aunts.That was the year that Father Tracytook all the kids to the zooAnd he let them sing on the bus.And his little sister was bornwith tiny toenails and no hair.And his mother and father kissed a lotAnd the girl around the corner sent him a valentine signed with a row of X’sand he had to ask his father what the X’s meant.And his father always tucked him in bed at nightAnd was always there to do it.Once on a piece of white paper with blue lineshe wrote a poemAnd he called it “Autumn”because that was the name of the season.And that’s what it was all about.And his teacher gave him an A and asked him to write more clearlyAnd his mother never hung it on the kitchen doorbecause of its new paint.And the kids told himthat Father Tracy smoked cigarsAnd left butts on the pews.And sometimes they would burn holes. That was the year his sister got glasses.with thick lenses and black framesAnd the girl around the corner laughed.when he asked her to go see Santa Claus.And the kids told him whyhis mother and father kissed a lot.And his father never tucked him in bed at night.And his father got madwhen he cried for him to do it.Once on a paper torn from his notebookhe wrote a poemAnd he called it “Innocence: A Question” because that was the question about his girl.And that’s what it was all aboutAnd his professor gave him an A and a strange steady lookAnd his mother never hung it on the kitchen doorbecause he never showed herThat was the year that Father Tracy died. And he forgot how the endof the Apostle’s Creed wentAnd he caught his sister making out on the back porch.And his mother and father never kissedor even talked.And the girl around the cornerwore too much makeupThat made him cough when he kissed herbut he kissed her anywaybecause that was the thing to do. And at three A.M. he tucked himself into bedhis father snoring soundlyThat’s why on the back of a brown paper baghe tried another poemAnd he called it “Absolutely Nothing”Because that’s what it was really all about.And he gave himself an A, and a slash on each damned wristAnd he hung it on the bathroom doorbecause this time he didn’t thinkhe could reach the kitchen.
Posted on: Sat, 29 Mar 2014 18:41:50 +0000
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