The Gang by John Grey

THE GANG                                                                 

smoking, rooftop sunning,

MTV at all hours, McDonalds,

Boston Baked Beans and Red Hots.

pilfered cigarettes,

beer thanks to a kid of 21 we knew -

fished, paddled,

tried to water ski,

stifled giggles at the shy parade

of a girlfriend's first bikini

played piggy-back in the water,

splash wars, near-drownings,

followed by bottle rockets

at twenty paces

gritted out teeth

at school's twelve year

lashing program -

hated teachers and cops -

fed our lockers

on whatever didn't embarrass us

in sleazy neighborhood

shop windows,

yearned for a piercing

and a dragon tattoo

ate footlongs, drank root-beer,

at home football, dodged questions like

"how come you're not out there on the field?"

competed in peeing contests, literally, peeing contests

nearest to the ceiling was king -

purred over an elder brother's first wheels

and carved -

wherever we could we carved -

trees, desks, light poles —

no presence went unrecorded

these days,

we meet and drink.

play poker and rap

this is some of the stuff we rap about -

did we really do that?

were we so stupid?

nobody can remember it happening to them

but they sure recall it happening to all of us

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in New Plains Review, South Carolina Review, Stillwater Review and Big Muddy Review with work upcoming in Louisiana Review, Cape Rock and Spoon River Poetry Review.