Saturday, 19 March 2016

Why I Hate Applesauce (March 18, 2016)

Once more
I find myself
Back
In the village
Of Erin, Ontario.

As if
The sands of Time
Had shifted backwards
Thirty-eight years.

To that fateful day
In 1978
When I learnt
A harsh lesson
In anxiety.

For I had shattered
My latest bully's
Front upper teeth
At the gum line.

A sobbing wretch
I arrived home.

With my broken
Thor lunchbox
And soiled winter jacket
Covered
In applesauce.

Can still hear
Those little angels
That surrounded us
Demonically
Calling for blood.

In the kitchen
Did the fight
Unfold
To my mom.

Between sobs
And blowing
My running nose.

Over
The next month
Or so.

We waited
For the dreaded knock
From the OPP
At the front door.

Charging me
With assault
Causing bodily harm.

Nothing happened
Except
Robbie (the bully)
And his family
Moved to Calgary.

(As reported
By the grapevine).

Never saw him
Again
That I know of
Beyond
The flashbacks.

Therisa © 2016

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