The furthest he’d ever gone

In the 80’s when my brother was a child he played
on a star soccer team called the Top Guns
and how funny that is that a created personality
catalyzes the heart of culture, fellowship, teamwork

The love scene in that movie was dope.  We watched it
on repeat again at the same slumber party where we
dressed up in our underwear and took pictures
of one another.   Somehow the boys found them.
We were in sixth grade.  I remember passing notes and
in one of them the picture of the other blond in our group.
My undies were sexier then hers.  I felt the pang of jealousy

Swift as a hot dagger curve through my center, and larger
than the round of it was the righteous betrayal of her own
bare skin right there in the middle of my chest, balm of my
slice defender of her decency I arose, staggered by the great
strange polarities I met in myself that day.

I remember still the guy that passed it around, it was his
girlfriend the blonde, he made kissing whores out of most
of us that year and later we would all agree that his first kiss
was like a sock puppet dry and dodgy at the mouth.  I think
of him now and mostly see his soccer mom, a cornerstone
of the private school neighborhood most the Catholic school
kids came from, her leather skin and the cigarette scent
around her she always thought she hid.  His best friend

The one the following year I stayed up talking sex fantasies
with, and even got him to come to an O’s game with me
and my dad his hand resting on my lap fingers walking up the
seem of my pants the whole time in the backseat drive back
to his house, which the furthest he’d ever gone with a girl
in our grade as far as any of us knew was about to be me?
He normally only went out with girls in 8th or 9th grade
but then nothing ever happened with us after that and

Cigarette mom boy had a hardness to me from then on,
mean. Later even, the summer after about to be eighth grade
I smoked a cigarette in front of him outside on the big cement
cinders at the Marley Station mall, the one where the best
milkshakes still are and after that, he never really talked to me
anymore at all.  Til we graduated and then somehow we
were good, our brothers were and had always been friends,
and he always was good in my head after that and the other
blonde went on to an all girls high school in the city and he
was at the all boys one there my dad had went to

The Baltimore Archdiocese also its own personality, its old
memories blurry and dusty also funny to me and old
as a sock puppet, tiresome at the mouth you just can’t seem
to push away.



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