Chicano Poet

Friday, January 14, 2005

Stone Age Teenagers

Like I was saying
before Mr. Bones
woke up from

his nightmare
about growing
a dinosaur tail

and interrupted
my reminiscence
of high school days.

We were parked
in front of my house
on Fourth St.,

Janay always wore skirts---
back in those days
girls couldn’t wear

pants or shorts to school.
We were kissing
and exploring,

well, I was exploring.
As cars went by
we ducked

and as I lived
on a gravel street,
each time a car passed,

the dust would rise
and you could smell
the Pre-Cambrian roots

of each and every pebble,
no fossils back then
to surprise you

if you broke open a stone.
It seems so long ago
since we kissed,

a million years maybe,
but in geologic time
that’s just a second.


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