In a dark place on the playground,
under the rumble of the roller-slide,
Patrick accused me
of not wearing underwear.
The time had come to prove.
His freckles taunted.
His cowlick pointed.
His mouth formed
into a wet O --
Show me.
The yellow slip, the hallway.
The secretary, with powder
in dank crevices, smelled
like basement trunks
and moldy cheese. I thought fast,
swore I was wearing shorts
under my pants. I would never
show him my real underwear.
She led me to a back room
I didn't know existed.
There was a green cot,
a room for the sick
and the bad.
The time had come to prove.
A strip of dead skin
hung from her lip--
Show me.