8th Grade ride

I stood out under a

full moon tonight,
pissing in the yard.

I got the flowers,

rocks and little anthills
with a marksman's precision.

I thought about your mother.

She'd pick me up sometimes and
let me hitch a ride with you to school.

I would watch her hand grip the
steering wheel with all those
diamonds on her fingers,

crimson nails and envision it

being my cock instead.

She wore hairspray
that smelled like something
too beautiful to fuck...
but I wanted to anyway.

She wore heels and business suits
with gaudy gold pins of some
jumbled mess or another
on her lapel.

I would make small talk
with her and she would
glare at me in the
rear view mirror as though
she'd lost her mind.


Ray Strickland Jr. 12/23/2010

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