Rusty Gold

you wouldn’t think ten

miles from here is a twenty-

million-dollar house

but there are lots of those

they call this part

of my state the gold coast

with huge rich

houses on the beach

but here stuck off

the trail that time forgot

there’s only tin

and with a little creek

at the bottom of the slope

tin goes brown and flakes to rust

real fast

like that old pickup

semi-rotting in the yard

so we have rust stuck

smack in the middle of the gold

ha Rusty Gold

sounds like the kind of

country star my father listens to

My quivering heart

Beats just for you . . .

then turns it up

and drinks and sleeps

or drinks and cries

into his hands

I’d call myself that

hi, I’m Rusty Gold

except it wouldn’t

stick

not stick

like

Slug.

or like the other name they

love to call me

It Was the Fourth

day of school this year

the hallway after seventh period

I’d almost cleared

my first week without saying much

or being seen

when

a kid a junior his clothes

reeking of sour gym shorts

passed me quick

I felt him swing around

and stop and tug his friend back

half laughing eyes widening

as he’d found the answer

to something big

It’s him!

and some cold hand twisted my stomach

into a boiling wet towel

no, you don’t see me

I didn’t say

but the second kid half laughing now

let himself be dragged right

over to my face

Really? Is it you?

We were just talking about you.

I looked down the hall

to the doors too far away

It’s him. I know it is.

what?

I said

that’s all just

what?

You actually live there?

The green house in the junkyard.

Is that where you live?

It is. I saw him once.

What’s your name?

I wanted to say nobody

and poke his eye out

but said nothing

I think his name is Junk.

said the second one

He lives there.

Let’s call him it. Junk.

Hey, Junk,

How much for a

Twenty-oh-eight

Subaru fender?

the half laughing was all

laughing now

I Never Was

great to begin with

not a zippy

super gift of happy fun

from anyone to anyone

I am fifteen

can barely touch the top

of the doorframe

with my fingertips

if I jump for it

have puppet

strings for muscles

am not good

with bats and balls

and sticks and goals

my throat closes

and I choke

when Coach

makes me run in gym

the reason is

my lungs are flat

and small as

as

as

I don’t know

tea bags

Plus

my face is kind

of narrow

like a wedge

from my nose

back to my ears

and my chin

comes to a point

Nine months for this?

maybe my mother said

or maybe not

but some kid said to his mom

once in a store

(because I have to shop

for food and soap)

He’s scary.

and I am scary

especially in the dark

when only half

my ax-head is lit

and the other’s not

you’d say so too

if you looked in

my mirror

But I See

even if I don’t talk

I look at things

(and sometimes people)

what they look like

what they do

last week at lockdown assembly

there was a girl from

my middle school

in the row in front

I looked at her hair too long

didn’t turn my eyes away

from that waterfall of hair

before she looked around and saw and

made a face that said

Why do they even let freaks in our school?

sometimes I don’t know

how long I do it

(stare from my eyes

at a thing or face)

at home Jimmy says

Don’t stare at me.

God, you’re like her.

She was always staring at me

Looking for answers.

I hate that.

I don’t have any answers.

Does it look like I have answers?

so when I can

I keep my head down

and eyes down

and look away

still

I see things

The Teachers Stopped

asking Jimmy

to come in

And talk to us about Robert.

because he kept

missing meetings

and when they called

he’d say

I’ll make it right.

I’ll talk to him.

but he didn’t make it right

or talk to me

and when they said

You know we thought

At first that he was slow.

But he’s not slow.

Your son’s not slow at all.

He’s just quiet, very quiet.

he’d shrug and say

Yeah, I guess.

there was a time

a social worker came

but Dad found out

and cleaned the house

and made a meal

I played along

because I didn’t know

what they would do

but I knew him

and it was easier

one time he almost choked

on what a counselor said

when she called

Join a club? A school club?

Him? Seriously?

Good luck with that.

I mean, I’ll ask him, but . . .

and flicked a look at me

then rolled his eyes

across the ceiling between us

of course he never asked

about me joining any club

not even

ha

the human race

I was good enough

to live at the dark end

of a dark trail

but not much else

not that I was going to join

anything anyway

but still

he never talked to me

he never asked

I never joined

I Never Joined

but if I look along and up

the valley from my house

I can spy

the sharp white finger

of the church’s tower

pointing away

from us

the church the church

why do I look up there?

because of her

my mother maybe

I don’t know

it is the parish church

of St. Dominic

which dad says she

baptized me at

Father Percy

is the guy who runs it

when I went to church

he talked from his pulpit

low and slow

like he was making up

each word before he said it

but (surprise) it sat there

like the page

of a book

when he was done

yeah

I used to go to church

maybe it was knowing

my mother held me

at that baptism bowl

and maybe I liked

to think of my mother

still in my life

or maybe I went

because there was a girl

red hair and freckly

from another school

her hands pressed flat together

at the rail not looking at me

but

oh boy

that red hair

Father Percy Talked One Day

about guess what

God

and God’s two other selves

there are a total of three of him

in heaven

taking shifts

to get it all done

but none of them

I think

get around to

the end of the trail

When There Is

no moon

the woods are blue

along the trail

the only light

the only real light

is tiny simple clean and bright

a yellow lamp

peering through the trees

far up the other way

it’s from a shed

on the far side

of the churchyard

I Went Up There Once

a couple of years

ago to see

after all what the heck

was going on

this pinhole

of bright buttery light

blinking down my woods

at night

so I crept up the slope

and looked in

a little lighted shed

and there he was

Father Percy bent

white-haired and squinting

over a table

over a little book

over a page

his pointer finger

moving under a line

on the page

I thought he must be

making up

the speech

he gives on Sunday

thou shalt not

do this

or this

or this

or be this either

then all at once

I saw his face turn

to the window

so I ducked

but I guess

he only saw

the night-black square

of glass

not me

because when

I peeked again

he was back

at the line

on the page

in the book

on the table

so I went home

that night

and that was that

He Preached Another Time

from his altar