There was Harry, Woody, Ziffel, Rider,
my cousin Ralph, Gary, Pez,
Laura, Char, Arlene
Judy and Cindy, Big Ed’s sisters,
Duh-wane my boyfriend whose name was really
Wayne, a cute blonde guy I soon dropped and
they were all part of the Tillson gang
a group of kids that I hung out with.
We would meet up on Gary's porch
next to the corner store
skip school together
sign each other’s excuses
have keg parties
check out the local cemetery and
usually end up at Rider’s house.
Rider’s Mom, a savvy nurse
would buy massive amounts of wonder bread
and humongous jars
of peanut butter and jelly for us kids.
Rider’s brother Kenny--not a member
was this gross dork
who got straight A’s and
wore thick glasses with tape on the nosepiece.
Just to torment us he would
pick the buggers out of his nose
big juicy green ones and
then stick them in his mouth
Eeeewwww! KENNNYYY ugh!
We would often go there for lunch
after smoking a doobie and then go
down into Riders basement and listen to
Led Zepplin, Jethro Tull, Uriah Heep and Black Sabbath.
Stoned on some primo Mexican
lulled by the heavy metal and the black lights
we would while away the hours and
then later grab a ride in Harry’s bug
back to Rosendale, sometimes
we'd try to fit everyone in squeezing
bodies into every square inch, the all time
record was fifteen.
Char who was so small
she could fit into the
compartment behind the back seat.
Occasionally the local fuzz would catch me
walking home after 7:00 p.m. and take me
to Kallops Corner and drop me off with a warning.
Far enough down the road that the old man
far enough away-- from reality.
It occurs to me That I require an ideal To summit these peaks. Something more than a patch. My tenacity shouts above my perception Shooting ...