Car, Car C-A-R
Summer anthems of a cul-de-sac court
Squishy basketballs with asphalt gunk soar Flat
Above our heads,
And we leap HIGH,
High enough so we can brush the golden sun with Speckled leaves to match.
You’re two inches taller but I’m still older, And
December to February is the difference between Two
months and Two
years,
But between you the world and my reflection,
I feel little
Because my eyes are
naked, and
I still call the clouds what they are.
These are cumulus, but
They can change with the pressure systems coming in.
Hot and cold weatherman gossip
Fills a sky with
Piss and vinegar and
Condensation, and the air feels heavy because
I stuck my head in a jelly jar while
You said it was dirty,
And you showed me your romance
books while
I read you real history
And we both felt behind in
Our own times.
Aren’t star-crossed
teenagers too young to
Fall In Love?
is that what you dream?
Our wiffle ball home runs
whisper Major League
Grand Slams World Series,
Out of this park out of this world
Out of our minds
Because we feel our ponytails
Yank us back.
Never mind the kid
Jackie Mitchell,
Six strikes lucky, six strikes god,
Call it a spectacle, call her a story,
Make her a myth,
A powdered-nosed, skin and bones baseball nymph,
Who grew up in the end,
Like you, like me,
For how many hits do we have
Left?
The yellow leaves
Remind me.
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