Jay

I had a friend in sixth grade named Jay

who bought me a birthday present.

I had never gotten a present for my birthday

from a school friend.

My father had lost his company on Apollo One.

And no one in our new neighborhood knew.

And Jay had gotten a rocket for me propelled by water.

Which to me is still the cuteness of a sixth grade child.

In a world that needs it. Perhaps we see that a lot

in what we care for. I grew up wanting to be a diamond.

Wanting to be the best. A Cadet Major.

And instead went into Linguistic History.

And that was what interested me.

As a child we had one of Jane Mansfield’s

66 Lincolns. I used to sleep in the back windowsill.

We had a radio phone in it. This isn’t you might think Poetry,

but I like to have a little variation.

And I like to share.