Untitled V
It’s always out of the blue
with you
unexpected
and then forever
Reading White Fang and Fuller
on the door stoop of the acting professor
Listening to records spin through headphones downtown
You kept my lucky socks
because I stood you up for
breakfast
But you never called.
The summer I lived in the closet
we walked
to the creek
to squat between the spindly bushes
and broken glass
and newspaper ribbons
to chew our gum sticks
in the shadows
Maybe you liked me because I built shoe shelves out of the computer box.
Maybe I liked you because you reminded me of Ralph Macchio.
One day
when you move to Kampuchia
I will visit you in the afternoon
for hot tea
and coconut popsicles.
©2008 Hillary Swanson. All rights reserved.