Too Old for Toys
The sun hung low in the sky like a sponge dipped in dye.
It dripped ink all over the world.
Mosquitoes attacked unprotected ankles.
Through the fog of gnats,
I could see my friend.
She smelled like cherry popsicles
which taste like strawberries.
Her hair smells like music sounds
Strawberry popsicles taste like watermelons.
We ran amuck on concrete sidewalks and peoples' lawns,
and peddled our bicycles as far as our bare feet would allow.
Rah, Rah! The parents won and the kids lost
because of those eyes in the back of their head.
Your legs broke?
they asked us all the time.
The languid heat of Thursday afternoon made us slouch
and beg the Good Humour man for ice cream.
Beads of sweat dropped like dead flies.
We turned invisible and went to the forbidden creek
to hunt for minnows.
Jenny waded in the water
unaware of the seaweed that would lash her ankles
and make her slip into a room
full of girls reeking of tear-gas perfume.
She'll have to be eaten by the sharks to ever be whole again.
J'ai dans?ans la lune et les ?iles et le soleil.
even as stucco walls close in,
and bugs weave a web of confusion all around.