poem of the day 02.20.14

viviane smith played football

viviane smith played football

with us neighborhood boys in her backyard

it was a compromise we made

viviane’s family had the biggest backyard

in the neighborhood

it was the only one you could play football in

wide enough for slant patterns or to go long

all the soft grass made it easy for us

to play tackle instead of tag

like we had to do out there on the street

there were no cars in viviane smith’s backyard

to stop playing for

of course, her old man didn’t want her to play

he’d sit in the backyard with a beer

he’d yell at us boys to be careful for christ’s sake

she’s a girl, he kept reminding us

as if we didn’t know it

as if none of us had discussions about the tits

that grew over night

the braces that came off that september

the curves that had developed out of mortal flesh

and the new haircut that viviane got

that made her more of an anomaly

doing button hooks or hiking the ball

we did our best to keep her safe

we put viviane in for the soft plays

the kick-offs and punts

the running plays where she only had to block

we tried not to tackle her

but if some wise guy had her go long on third and ten

sometimes we had no choice

then it was a battle of the sexes

male pride in bloom

viviane smith running for her life downfield

with one, two, three of us in hot pursuit

forgetting about those tits

forgetting that haircut

or the fact that when she sunbathed that past summer

we made it more of a point to come around

and sit in the backyard with her

sipping ice tea or cherry coke

imagining less than football glory in those moments

and much more than we were sure to get

from this strange new creature

who’d just bloomed right in front of us

without our knowledge or consent.