Junk Boy

isn’t
an offering
for the food campaign)
a woman was crying
sobbing really
both to and at
the priest
tugging his sleeve
and saying
She she she!
and it was her
the mother from the school
Rachel’s mother
the one who slapped her hard
and ran away
the one who hates
what Rachel is and does
and he was listening hard
head bent to her
(the way he bends it
when he reads)
nodding very slow
his hands on one of hers
saying what back
I didn’t hear
I noticed just now
how thin
the woman was
(where Rachel gets it from)
except with hair pulled
wire-tight and stiff
and limbs
all wound up like a coil
ready to unspring
this slapping woman
shook on her heels as if
she might fall over
or fly off
her screaming whisper
in his ear
was just that word
She!
the car keys in her
other hand
kept jangling
with each
She she she!
meaning
Bad bad bad!
her gasps and tears
between her teeth
were angry mad
I remembered
Rachel saying
. . . she’s out of her mind . . .
Father Percy took
one of his hands
and set it
on her shoulder now
turning to the door
Come in, come in.
and led her through
the arched red door
into the lobby
of the church
but something of
that woman
remained outside with me
a kind of cold
in the air
like frost
and eyes that speared me
with their pointed tips
as if I’d done
a bad thing
was unclean
had lied
had stolen
something precious
from her
and she knew it
and would get me
for it
she would get me back
I shivered
then remembered dad
by then the bag
was soaked
and I walked home
where he shouted tilting
from the tilted deck
why would I ever ever take
the long way back
and now his beer was ruined
(and in my mind
I smiled
and in my pocket
my middle
finger
went stiff again)

Wednesday
the weather changed
and cold came in for real
closing up the world
with clouds
that wouldn’t budge
gray sky
gray air
gray ground
all gray
like everything
was drawn in gray
I hadn’t spotted Rachel
since last week
and wondered
was she sick
or mad at me
(because I’m so important)
or did something
happen with her shouting mother
something I wanted not
to want to know when all at once
there she was
standing still
looking at me
in the art room hall
with all the pictures
finally up
I didn’t know what my face
did but I took a step
then stopped
her eyes were dark like
inside glass at night
no depth in them
the surface of a frozen pond
cold slipped up my arms
across my shoulders fingering my neck
uh, Rachel?
then
like her inside eyelids blinked
and something fell away
there I was
in front of her
Guess what?
she said
Can you help me?
Nobody can help me.
friend?
help?
who am I
to
her?
then she cupped her hand
her same puke hand
beside her mouth
and bent close to my ear
her breath on my neck
like whispering a secret
To see an art high school
I might transfer to.
I sent some art and wrote
The best essay.
something went tingly
when she was this close
and told me this
as if it was a move
the opposite of puking
in your palm
as if I knew a secret now
that no one knew
but me
that’s cool
I said
except
why should I be happy
she might leave our school?
Mr. Taymore got a friend
Of his, a painter, to write a letter too.
The school is in the city. It’s really good.
I’ll live with my dad,
Go to art school,
And never see my mother again.
Win, win, win.
that didn’t sound
much like a win at all
at least for me
and wasn’t any secret
okay . . .
then she said
Come with me.
I don’t want to go alone.
I mean, I can but I don’t want to.
come?
with?
you?
All my other friends are artists.
They’d be jealous.
You wouldn’t be. Right? You wouldn’t?
My mother won’t take me.
We can get an Uber
To the station or
Your dad can drop us off.
oh
she needs me
for a ride
Yeah, come with me.
My dad’ll buy us lunch.
she said over
her shoulder
as she walked away


The School Assembly
was Friday morning
I sat in a row
far from the goons
who call me Junk
it doesn’t matter where
there were awards
it doesn’t matter what for
someone
played the flute
I think and
someone
read a poem
two girls sang
it doesn’t matter who
I heard Maggi laugh
from the fourth or fifth row
but not with Rachel
which I guessed I wondered why
then they said her name
Rachel Braly!
she won
the art competition
of course she did
and came up from some seat
I didn’t see
her mother was there
in the audience
sitting alone
some kind of frosty
space around her
then utter weirdness
took over
when Rachel said
Thank you for this prize.
I owe it all to—
squinting her eyes to slits
she searched the seats
and pointed to her mother there
and said
My father.
Who couldn’t be here today.
there came
a sudden hollow
in the room
a loud no-noise
in the air
and she grinned
and walked offstage
her smile was
was like
a cut
across her face
that didn’t seem to hurt
her
only other people
or maybe only
her mother
who walked
up the aisle to the back and
out of the giant quiet room
her face
like a stone


I Thought Okay
this has entered some other
universe
I don’t want to be in
don’t need the buzzing in my ribs
my veins
my eyes
and maybe she’ll forget
she said
Come with me.
almost hoped
she would
but no
Tuesday is great.
it had to be a weekday so
Tuesday, okay?
and yeah
I said I’d go
don’t ask
just don’t


Jimmy Didn’t Care
could barely limp himself
to the pickup
except that Rachel
was a girl
a breathing girl
and that was good enough
Hey, it doesn’t matter what
She looks like,
Just as long as she’s a girl.
I was worried.
We all were.
I didn’t say
she’s so not interested
but just him saying that
made me
want to puke
plus I had no idea
who we were
unless his beer friends
Ray and Mike
we puttered through
the streets and roads
to where
she was waiting
not in or at or near
her house but on
some random corner
she told me to come to
my father gave her
a once-over
then he shrugged
and she sat between us
in the front
her black art case
in the space behind
the seat
My dad will meet us at Grand Central.
was the only thing
I remember
anybody said
my father squinted
and blinked the
whole way to the station
thinking I bet
when we got out
(Not a girly girl.
That’s for sure.)
he didn’t crack his wallet
no surprise
so she paid
for both our tickets
with a credit card
Jimmy was gone
before the train came


Onboard She Told Me
to sit
across from her
in a facing seat they have
near the doors
she unzipped her case
took out a sketchpad and pencils
arced her lips up
in a quick muscle smile
that went right away
and bent low over her pad
I have a huge folder,
Well, my dad does,
Of my drawings I did
In like kindergarten.
the train already started to slow
for the next station
I thought about
making a comic book once
It’s awful, my early stuff.
He likes it.
her face when she
hung hunched
over the sketchpad
was all pinched up
like someone whose
eyes were pressed to
a microscope
trying to understand
a not-understandable
strange new thing
the train stopped and started again
her nose wrinkled
she chewed her lips
sucked her teeth
fussed her shoulders
up and down
as if spiders crawled
on her
not getting it
not getting