Tristan Robert Lange

Over What Hill?

And so,

It happened that

I went out a wandering,

Long-like as young gals do,

Strolling out along the land,

With nothing but trouble, true.

Stretched those lanky legs outward,

Each step taking me all the way through.

Can you even imagine the feeling that, once

there—standing there at the middle point, I was

more than half the way there. But to goddamn

where? That is the question that no one will ask,

no matter how level that may be to freaking do.

So, here’s what this young lad—not so young

now, granted—is going to do: wise up to a fun

thing taught to me by a boy named Pete,

who was devilishly sweet with searing

heat. His shadow—a trickster was he—

stitched to him so he could be seen.

I was his darling then, and he,

my dear friend, taught me

that this adulting shit

must come to a

necessary

end.

© 2025 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.

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