Bastards
- Bastards
his name was Billy Ballardbut kids called him Billy Bastarddenim shirts, brown stainssmell of urine, small red eyesparents said he was "bad"teacher said "bad"when he fell in beside mein the alley after schoolI didn't runwhen he flung paint inside garagesI joined himslick paint colors runningdown our wrists andunder our shirt cuffsthe sweet smell of guiltand lust drove uswhen we heard"stop you bastards"we ranlater I cried, copiouslyand gave it upgave up myselfand gave up Billycleaning garages for a monthI worked with a half-smileone part righteous restitutionone part bastard [End Page 89]
Richard Mack is the author of a book of poetry and essays, Against a Western Sky, and his prose and poetry have been published in such journals as Wind Literary Review, South Dakota Review, Salal Review, Cape Rock, Green's Magazine, Denver Post, and others. He and his wife operate a horse boarding facility in Eastern Oregon.
