We became friends later.
On that day we were
combatants.
Two kids trying to
prove their manhood.
I circled left, shot a quick
jab.
I missed and Doug laughed.
He hit me fast with a right.
Laughed again.
I circled right, this time my
jab landed.
There was a gush of
blood from his nose.
He wiped at it, and said,
My ******* sister hits
harder than that.
I hit him again.
I'll bet she doesn't hit
harder than that, I said.
You'd lose that bet, Doug said.
Mr Jester came running out of
his house.
You boys quit fighting and shake
hands right now...I want you to
say something nice about each other.
He motioned towards me.
Well, Sir, Doug here has a tough sister.
She hits harder than most boys,
at least that's what I heard.
Doug grinned.
Oh, a regular Marciano, huh Doug?
Oh yes, sir.
She can be a real mean ***** when she
wants to be.
Mr Jester said,
Hey, watch your language you
little degenerate.
Who do you think you are,
John Dillinger?
Doug muttered some
sort of apology.
Go on, the old man said, it's
your turn.
"Tommy boy here has a
great curve ball.
He got five strikeouts last week."
"Hey, that's great son, you gonna be
in the major leagues when you grow up?"
Yes, Sir, I said.
Someone was mowing their lawn, and
the smell of fresh-cut grass filled the air.
We were young, green, and tough.
"How about you son, do you want to play
in the big leagues too?" Jester asked.
Doug grinned.
"No sir, baseball isn't my thing.
When I get older, I'd like to ***** one of
your daughters."
Doug took off running.
He ran track for the team.
100-yard dash if I remember right.
I could hear Mr. Jester just
barely over the lawn mower.
Come here you rotten little
son of a *****
Jun 28, 2025
Jun 28, 2025 at 7:51 PM UTC
We became friends later.
On that day we were
combatants.
Two kids trying to
prove their manhood.
I circled left, shot a quick
jab.
I missed and Doug laughed.
He hit me fast with a right.
Laughed again.
I circled right, this time my
jab landed.
There was a gush of
blood from his nose.
He wiped at it, and said,
My ******* sister hits
harder than that.
I hit him again.
I'll bet she doesn't hit
harder than that, I said.
You'd lose that bet, Doug said.
Mr Jester came running out of
his house.
You boys quit fighting and shake
hands right now...I want you to
say something nice about each other.
He motioned towards me.
Well, Sir, Doug here has a tough sister.
She hits harder than most boys,
at least that's what I heard.
Doug grinned.
Oh, a regular Marciano, huh Doug?
Oh yes, sir.
She can be a real mean ***** when she
wants to be.
Mr Jester said,
Hey, watch your language you
little degenerate.
Who do you think you are,
John Dillinger?
Doug muttered some
sort of apology.
Go on, the old man said, it's
your turn.
"Tommy boy here has a
great curve ball.
He got five strikeouts last week."
"Hey, that's great son, you gonna be
in the major leagues when you grow up?"
Yes, Sir, I said.
Someone was mowing their lawn, and
the smell of fresh-cut grass filled the air.
We were young, green, and tough.
"How about you son, do you want to play
in the big leagues too?" Jester asked.
Doug grinned.
"No sir, baseball isn't my thing.
When I get older, I'd like to ***** one of
your daughters."
Doug took off running.
He ran track for the team.
100-yard dash if I remember right.
I could hear Mr. Jester just
barely over the lawn mower.
Come here you rotten little
son of a *****
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cz70MOS_JX8
Here is a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry from my latest book, Sleep Always Calls, available on Amazon. My other books, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems and It's Just a Hop, Skip, and Jump to the Madhouse are on Amazon too.
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