The Pre-Algebraic Blues


Waiting at bus stops with the hope of
First hand job by park light
At 13, sniffing fingers

This was the way
Boys without older brothers
Learned such things

First cigarette by
The gas station
New fashions

Times of
And poor growths

First death
How light it was that morning learning by MySpace of summer now ended

(‘Certainty is most often felt in youth’ is how most would phrase this which in all its sentiment holds truth)

We’re getting tattoos and haircuts
Painting our nails the colors of the leaves

The fall is the sigh of a year
before starting her car
in the morning when the lamp posts still glow and hum

This is the first
cup of coffee
in the fall
when anxious
summer has
shaken itself

Everyone looks pale
By mid-fall