In Providence, they put Nanny between us to stop the punch wars
I was losing to Donny, though I would never admit it until my bruised
and battered biceps fell off my shoulder, even then I wouldn’t cry,
wouldn’t give Donny the satisfaction of knowing he’d won,
wouldn’t give my parents an excuse to move me into the way-back
where Ellen read surrounded by luggage or between them
in front where Chrissy bobbed her head like some dashboard Virgin Mary,
smiling like she never did anything wrong which isn’t true
since that’s why she was sitting there in the first place.
Now I felt sorry for Nanny on her first vacation to the Cape trapped
between bored ten-year-old me and more bored thirteen-year-old Donny;
we could only stare out the window for so long before the monotony
drove us to team up and start watching her lips, saying what she said
at the same time she said it, until she begged, Please boys, stop.
It’s not funny, as we begged along until my father swung his arm over the seat
and threatened, Don’t make me pull over, slapping blindly with his hand
as my mother pleaded, Please Don, watch the road, and the car
swung back and forth in traffic like a dog straining against a leash.
Then Dad slammed on his brakes and swerved into the line
for the Cape exit and we all panted in relief and excitement
as if returning from our wild selves, glad to have survived again
until at the Bourne Bridge, cars backed up at the circle,
their roofs piled high with coolers, bikes and beach chairs,
Donny asked if I wanted to see who could hit the softest
and I reached across Nanny and brushed his biceps
and he reached across and clocked me, knuckle twisting
to reach the bone and as I cried out, he smiled and said, You win.
Jack Powers’ poems have appeared in The Southern Review, The Cortland Review, Rattle, Poet Lore and elsewhere. His first book, Perfectly Good Shoes, will be coming out in the fall. He won the 2015 and 2012 Connecticut River Review Poetry Contests and was a finalist for the 2013 and 2014 Rattle Poetry Prizes. He teaches in Redding, Connecticut. Visit his website: http://www.jackpowers13.com/poetry/.
I was losing to Donny, though I would never admit it until my bruised
and battered biceps fell off my shoulder, even then I wouldn’t cry,
wouldn’t give Donny the satisfaction of knowing he’d won,
wouldn’t give my parents an excuse to move me into the way-back
where Ellen read surrounded by luggage or between them
in front where Chrissy bobbed her head like some dashboard Virgin Mary,
smiling like she never did anything wrong which isn’t true
since that’s why she was sitting there in the first place.
Now I felt sorry for Nanny on her first vacation to the Cape trapped
between bored ten-year-old me and more bored thirteen-year-old Donny;
we could only stare out the window for so long before the monotony
drove us to team up and start watching her lips, saying what she said
at the same time she said it, until she begged, Please boys, stop.
It’s not funny, as we begged along until my father swung his arm over the seat
and threatened, Don’t make me pull over, slapping blindly with his hand
as my mother pleaded, Please Don, watch the road, and the car
swung back and forth in traffic like a dog straining against a leash.
Then Dad slammed on his brakes and swerved into the line
for the Cape exit and we all panted in relief and excitement
as if returning from our wild selves, glad to have survived again
until at the Bourne Bridge, cars backed up at the circle,
their roofs piled high with coolers, bikes and beach chairs,
Donny asked if I wanted to see who could hit the softest
and I reached across Nanny and brushed his biceps
and he reached across and clocked me, knuckle twisting
to reach the bone and as I cried out, he smiled and said, You win.
Jack Powers’ poems have appeared in The Southern Review, The Cortland Review, Rattle, Poet Lore and elsewhere. His first book, Perfectly Good Shoes, will be coming out in the fall. He won the 2015 and 2012 Connecticut River Review Poetry Contests and was a finalist for the 2013 and 2014 Rattle Poetry Prizes. He teaches in Redding, Connecticut. Visit his website: http://www.jackpowers13.com/poetry/.
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