The Day I Threw My Last Rock
Location
I wore red.
I was apt to fight;
throwing rocks was my freak,
in a face off,
with kids who knew mean.
My rock flew
from sling fist,
at those kids who, like me, wore red.
Rather than correctly
crushing tailbone
my missile crushed some woman’s
red tail light.
Red shatter!
Maaaaad
Fury from the random, unintended victim…
Red scatter!
As it turns out, she saw red,
that lady so
Maaaaad
anyone actively interrogated, about
information on the bandit
who wore red.
Such as, those damn rascal
boys.
Up on the tracks
I viewed all and possibly, escaped
red life.