By Holly Day
that guy who used to work with my mom
and lived across the back alley from us
he used to try to touch my ass sometimes, I was 14
and I thought I was so cool because I could turn
an old guy like that on and off like a light bulb
someone with his own house and a car who would
buy me beer and cigarettes any time I wanted
years later, this girl I was living with
brought him home as her date and I
had to spend the next two weeks
listening to him
beg her to touch his penis
***
"Fourth Grade Field Trip"
By Holly Day
it was the middle of the day when they
piled us into school buses, drove us out to the farm
I�d spent the last two summers at
and they had dug the deepest hole
right in the middle of the yellow corn field
in the hole were as many bones
as there were people in my class,
laid out like matchsticks, dry, tinged red
I would have never guessed all these bodies
lay beneath my feet, the same place my sister and I
had spent all our hot days, playing squirt gun tag
if I had known
I could have been the one
to dig them all up.
***
"At Five"
Holly Day
I wonder if he remembers anything
prior to just the two of us, and hope
he only remembers the few good things
he can hate me if he does.
I worry how he�s going to react
when I tell him how I kept him
from a father I know loved his son
as much as he could love anyone
but not enough to feed, change, or support him
who threatened to kill me
enough times to keep me running, and I
hope my son doesn�t hate me
when this all comes out.