cheap seats

the year i lied about my age

we made glow-sticks from bottles

of Mountain Dew

i taped your blankets to the wall

while your little sisters legs went numb

on the porch

the first time you ever used a knife

i bit into your lip until the night was

parenthetical

i got a letter

telling me where to go

you checked the time

on a clock inside a jewelers window

we stood around the kiosk

taking turns being converted

the trouble with retrospection being that

I can’t remember exactly

how pale was his birthday cake?

“be happy” (you said) “you’ll want me to

hold your hand” (you said

on a Monday)

and i was thanking god for

how a bomb can make us feel like strangers