Can I go to Megan’s house?
Coat, I say.
It trails in his hands over cedar fronds,
mud and break-your-mother’s-back cracks.
They return, the inseparables,
before the fog of my hand
leaves the doorknob.
Chittering squirrels, they gather, gather, gather.
Blanket fort, seating for six
Neon weapons cache at 12, 3, and 9 o’clock because,
you never know.
Look what we drew. It’s a map of someplace cool.
The video we’re not watching is over.
These are washable markers, right?
Barbie and Yoda fell in the toilet and they like it.
Did you know
cats hate trampolines and
ramen can come out your nose,
if you tell the joke right.
Come on, let’s go to your house.
It’s so boring around here.