Boys, Boys Boys with bruises On their wrists Air Jordans and tzitzis Their crocheted yarmulkes And their way of seeing things: Taking a girls’ game And claiming it for men They define centrifugal force The way they hit the ball They lynch that pole And yell “Yo mama” that and this And bruise their wrists The wrists that sit atop the hands To hold On Saturday afternoon walks. |
Recently transplanted from the Midwest, Abby Glogower is a writer, musician and publicist working and leisuring in the SF Bay area. Her writing has appeared in F Magazine, Another Chicago Magazine, Featherproof books and numerous homemade publications.