poem
Volume 36, Number 2

Close

From my window I saw them gather together
at the playground and start a game of tag,
Paul, Perry, Brandalon, all my age,
running around in their school uniforms.

Then Perry said N____ ! to Brandalon and fled,
squealing, dodging, doubling back, til Brandalon
tackled him and hammered his face, crying
harder than I’d ever seen anyone cry.


—Michael Jones