Age Poems

Six

At six I lived for Evil Kneivel
pop rocks
and Japanese monster movies
on channel 12
These flavored my fantasies
of guts and glory

I lived for Donny and Marie
and waited for their plate-glass smiles
to lock in a deep kiss

I lived for the snake
at school
that ate white mice whole

I lived for a year when
mom's temper got hidden
behind school and
a new lover

I lived for Banquet fried chicken
and Rocky Road ice cream

I lived to be seven
and one day eight

I lived for a security
I never knew again.

Tim McGarry, Jefferson High School, Portland, Ore.

Six

I was too small for bumper cars
or light switches
I couldn't see myself
in the medicine cabinet like you
I had to hold myself up
not to fall in the toilet

My feet never reached the tile

But I
could stretch way out in the tub
and when
all the water swirled out
down the drain
I could
slip slide up and down
naked with my feet in the air

leaving puddles you had to clean up

Dried and tucked
I still had room for animal friends
in bed with me
I could drift
songs in my ears
Wink'n Blink'n and Nod

Sonia Kellerman, Jefferson High School, Portland, Ore.

See Linda Christensen's column, "Reading and Writing the World," for more information on age poems.

Fall 2002