White Lipstick

i grew up in noe valley

36 i grew up in noe valley i grew up in noe valley in san francisco and fell in love with the newspaper boy on 24th and castro as a man i would be different i could ask ladies out fuck them and leave them i would be boss and i would be just as chickenshit as i am now in the blue house the rooms are small the garden green with grass and grass and flowers all night long i danced my head off every man wanted me i stood them all off it worked and now i was alone but i didn’t mind at all all the moonlight and the cool cool breeze come in come in the apple tree is tall i cut the top off three years ago i swam a long time my arms coming up in arches i pulled myself out dripping onto the hot sidewalk gray circles hitting the cement 37 i fell in love with a boy who stood on the corner of 24th and castro selling newspapers he was young so was i 12 or 13 good brown hair that lay on his head in soft waves his shoes were scuffed tan cords worn at the knees he stood in front of cleggs drug store one foot of papers stacked on stacked on stacked when i look in the mirror i see my father i have his eyes high forehead i am tall like him with wide shoulders we walk the same way the veins in my hands stand out just like his he was a soft and thoughtful man the street cars come by every fifteen minutes i fell in love with a boy who stood on the corner in front of cleggs tan cords thinned at the knees good brown hair that matched his shoes with one foot of stacked papers against the building a large rock holding them down and cried out newspaper, get your newspaper here 38 later when the stack was gone we met at the show he put his arm around the back of my seat and told me how much he loved the way i chewed my gum ...