september 25, 2002

Culture

 

Poetry/Fiction/Essays/etc.

Every day lasts forever. Not dull but, like, full of endless
possibility. I can’t decide if time’s slowin’ down or ‘cause it’s
summer. The days are so long, and I get outta the house as
soon as I can, before anybody else wakes up. I realized last
week if I want power, if I wanna be the one who does
something I gotta look younger, not older. Age, like your
real age, should be avoided at all costs. If you look and act
your real age youre just a fool. You gotta change who you
are so people don’t know the real you, and if youre real
good at it you can convince anybody. So I started wearing
shorts and riding my skateboard again. Chewing Radical
Red Bubblicious. Henry says “Whattcha doin’, man? You
look like a fool.” And I just told him “You the fool. You
the mother fuckin’ fool!” I get in free to places now ‘cause
people think I’m just a kid. Shit, the Cineplex let me in at
a child’s price ‘cause the toad brain cashier girl thought I
was under fourteen. Little does she know what I'd do for
her, given half a chance. Some sicko prick lady even called
me cute the other day, outside the K-Mart, when I was
waitin’ for my sister to come out. Lady even reached for
my head like she’s gonna pat me like some friggin’ dog, for
chrissake. I coulda asked for a treat! But I just jumped on
my board and smiled at her and rode away. Blew bubbles.
See, lookin’ young gives me power, man, and the days are
so long, so ready, so mother fuckin’ ready for action. And
I got action to spare.

By Carla Elm

the other press

 

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