An Inside Lesson
Today Little Michael, nay Michelle.
struts his seventeen year old self
down the boulevard.
Flashing eyes under tweeked arch brows
Junebug, Snowball, Southside , all
take lustful, what would it be like notice.
But all know better.
This is Manhead’s new boy.
Nothing’s free.
A short time: two packs
Around the world: a whole carton.
“He who plays must pay”
Manhead collects and Michael does.
It’s the normal order of things.
It’s the understood, shank enforced, order of things.
And so it goes until
they find Michael just like Manhead’s old boy
Danny, nay Dannelle
hanging
like some morbid Calder creation
turning gently—first right then left
proudly wearing
his favorite old manhood confirming
number twenty-two football shirt.
The most recent graduate of the inside school where
the price of candy bars, cookies, sodas,
and biker tattoo arm protections
is learned.
But, today Little Michael, nay Michelle
struts his seventeen year old self
down the boulevard.
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