behind the candy store.
Seats flipped to face each other,
windows spray painted black,
Hanukkah candles mounted
on armrests.
“Moms got me a pair
of Timbos,
Stepdads bought me a
leather trench,
and my aunt hooked me
up
with a Gucci link!”
Eli—
He’s in the same pleather
jacket that he’s been
sporting
for the past two
years.
The gaping flaps
at the front of his
Keds
make his feet
two hungry
alligators.
And the bottoms of
his Lee’s
show tell-tale rings
where the hem
has been let down.
Who’s he think he’s
fooling?
Nobody got him shit.
Nobody got me shit.
And here we sit
in an abandoned car
on Christmas day.
Two without shit.
Shitless.
Merry Shitless
and
Happy—
No.
