Watching these teens roll by
in their Heelys and what hits me
ain’t just youth, but the unknown
and a little something to get us lit
worse than dad last Summer–
in the middle of the pool, drunk
with his shotgun pointed into the mist—
firing, for all we know,
into the dew itself to watch it drown.
Dad said the shot was for a Canadian goose
but hell, what’s hidden beneath us
right under our feet, here in this swamp?
It ain’t fucking wheels.
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