Fuck or Cockshit

i hadn't written a poem in years, until i was on a plane coming back from houston last july, when i cracked some code or something. then i kind of got back in to the swing, at least for a little, and i wrote one on the plane, and a few more that i'm kind of proud of. this is one:






Fuck or Cockshit

We played Megaman in the TV room
Me and this kid, my mom’s friend’s son
Brown hair bowl cut and some Gecko green and blue shirt
Probably khaki shorts

They stopped by on the way to Georgia
Some epic roadtrip, mother son and baby
The kid sat upside down in the backseat of the sedan
Loaded with pillows and board games
Wierdo.

He asked, in between levels, if I could, was allowed to say bad words
Some 8 year-old rite of passage
Saying fuck or cockshit
Like the old man
Or grandfather
Or alcoholic uncle

I was young as him with a tongue as untouched
Not with soap, but with a more natural cleanser:
fear
& yet, getting the better of me, was
The bravado of youth
I said yeah to impress. Yeah, to impress.

& My mother blew my cover.