in the morning in the evening the lonely sun and the moon that burns the skin with eyes she wanted him but he was not hers he belonged to nobody the baseball the only thing that held him to the ground and she was only a fifth- grader michelle called me a pig beating my meat slaughtering the deformed child in the fog of summer she took me to the diamond and let the umpires suck my blood each one laughing as they attached their ugly mouths to the sound kerry not a boy became friends with david he told me to get lost so i did betting on monopoly at recess and picking my nose i would run past the girls who called me piggy and wish to god i could sleep i was wounded laying on the baseball field it was 1945 the russian front sun shining and the smell of peanut butter sandwiches the sound of gun-fire kerry runs by c'mon he says we're going to the woods but i can't move he's wearing bell-bottoms his hair is long and then i realize i am a prisoner cold wings carry me to the ground i have no childhood only self-pity and as i remember she never said a word to me just started throwing chairs and i threw them back until she was dead now i don't know michelle.