10

At we recess we strolled the bases at the far end of the school yard

Reciting all the curses we’d accumulated 

Heard tossed casually between older siblings

Slipping out of our parents mouths as their hands clutched steering wheels

Scrawled on bathroom stalls

They sounded luscious

But made me feel dirty 

And I was relieved each day 

When we would finally turn into a pack of horses

Losing and finding their mothers

Or choreographing and rehearsing 

A dance routine to Barbara Ann