The piano tuner

there used to be a greengrocer on the ground floor
except for potatoes, there was not much call for 
another vegetable, the shop closed a piano tuner rented
the space and partly white-washed the windows
he didn't like to be seen by passers-by 
I sat on the gate into our yard pretending to be a cowboy 
when he asked me to help him in the shop, yes, I was glad 
to help got boring being a cowboy
He sat me on a piano stool, opened up my fly, began
playing with my innocent *****, with his right hand he
wanked himself, I was too petrified in fear I didn't
run away; when he *******, he dried himself with a hanky
in his pocket and, in a brusque manner, told me to leave
Outside, it took me a while to realize this man was a pig
but I was too ashamed to tell anyone and instead went
up to our flat opened a book by Robert Louis Stevenson
and began reading about islands and bright light