There was this one time when
In a stretch of six days
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
and Six
Casper
Stared saying
To anyone who made him mad
Or anyone who got in his way
Or anyone he picked out to use
As an outlet to his
Anger
And hurt:
"No asset fool."
The growl in his voice
His tense, tightened jaw
Told us he meant it
Whatever it meant.
And sometimes those words
And that growl
Would be accompanied by a curse word
Of varying intensity and
Sometimes it was just those three words
Alone
As they are.
And no one really knew
Where
Those words had come from and
Maybe, they surmised,
He got it off the streets
Or from a movie or song or
Maybe they didn't surmise at all and
Just got out of his way,
But
I knew.
On the first day he said it
Just a mutter under his breath,
A grumble like his mouth
Was filled with rocks.
By day
Two
and Three
And Four
The words came out clear and
The volume of his voice
Grew with practiced confidence.
On
Day Five
I heard some other boy say it, too,
Working hard to copy the hate
That scripted the words.
On Day Six
Casper
Said
It
To me.
Just the three words
Nothing extra
For added emphasis.
Just
"No asset fool."
And I looked at
Casper,
Looked up to his eyes
Direct and straight
Like no one else had
And I could see
The hint of red,
And I could hear the quiet sobs
That came from them
When no one else could see
And I said – and I meant it –
And I think that's what made him
Particularly mad:
"I'm sorry to hear about your mom,
Gordon."
And with a fist that was balled up
From years and years before,
A fist that had been frozen closed
In permanent rage,
He swung.
Update:
Day Seven
and
Day Eight
Casper hasn't said those three words
Again.
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Razel Razel (and the Others at The Gates)
Ngẫu nhiênWelcome to The Gates, a home for orphaned and abandoned boys. Leading you on a rather unconventional tour --a tour that includes photographs, poetry, and revealing bits and pieces of trash that he has collected (and, yeah, sometimes stolen), is our...
