Hazards of Sirenian Youth
back when I was a kid
in south-central Florida,
my friends
would talk about
how they had been
raised by manatees,
which seemed
more relaxed
than being raised
by wolves.
still they fed Alka-Seltzer
to any hungry seagull
hoping for a mid-air detonation
that would rain down from the heavens
all manner of viscera and plumage.
these were horrible children
despite their peaceful lineage.
we were working class
and all the little boys
wore hawaiian shorts
and all the little girls
wore ribbons that lay
long past their shoulders
like some day-glo gorgon’s hair.
our families lived on pop-tarts and generic soda.
we would find used condoms
in the greenside bunkers
that surrounded
the 10th hole
of Lore Blore Links and Swamp Excursions.
this was in the 80s
when parents let their kids
wander the murky muck
until the bats began to bite.
there was a lot of Janet Jackson,
a lot of wild animals,
and a burning curiosity
around the logistics of sand trap sex.