Poem: school without failure

when i was young,
and it was spring
we knelt down in the trees
of cedar point playing
jack to the beanstalk

i had soaked my legs
in clover honey
because i heard it was good
for the skin,
and with those leather eyes,
inherited from his father,
he smiled
while ants bit
and died in my knees

it was only may
and with legs pinched
by grass and teeth of
salt my hands went down.
without water
i drank, shaded,
while he fell
out of sight.

then feeling
fingers pull
my arms i was reminded
of my mother
and what she taught me,
through broken teeth, about
our pagan
sacrifice.



its almost billys birthday (and prom) in 29 days and 83 more days until graduation. its ending so quickly.