SHE: Poem 10 – “she orders me about” (circa ’85)
she orders me to carry
her Trapper Keeper down the hall,
to keep my neon Reebok laces
hidden at the mall.
she orders me to stand behind
the yellow line at the bus stop,
no leaning, no humming
my boombox’s latest pop.
she orders me to dial her
payphone at the arcade’s back wall,
then scolds me when the coins
clink too soft or stall.
she orders me to let her
board first on the rattling train,
to grip her Walkman,
to never complain.
she orders me to fetch
her Slurpee in grape—
no cherry swirl— and holds
my hand like
I’m her awkward pearl.
everywhere I go—school desks,
food courts, station seats—
I’m just her neon puppet,
dancing to her beats.
.
.