the child sits on the curb
staring at the passing cars
the used gum on the road
dead worms drying up
- crunchy like a chinese noodle?
scraping the gum off the pavement
it’s moist underneath and
it leaves a fingerprint on the road
you’re guilty now
the pebbles are small like babies teeth
picking them out (and how it would bawl)
some stay in and some come out, amusingly
rubbing the gum between your palms
forming a nice, round ball – a marble
with lumps
it looks almost brand new
except it smells better – aged
you can taste the smell
and putting it in your mouth
you grin
- Montreal, October 23, 1989
Yes, I wrote that while living a lonely life in Montreal. I remember picking used gum off streets as a toddler, eating it because, hell, it was there. I don’t remember my parents’ reaction when they discovered my love for gum.
Would being beaten 3 shades of blue helped against your obsession? That is usually the remedy in a Greek house. How about yours?
I don’t remember ever being beaten. They probably game me a years supply of gum.
So I guess you always believed your parents when they said “this is going to hurt me more than it’ll hurt you”.
As much as greg was probably beaten, it wasn’t enough.
My dad use to say, “If you act like a jackass, you will be beaten like a jackass.”
I always acted like a jackass.