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