Poems by John Pilkey |
Caravaggio. Judith (c. 1599) A Wednesday night in nineteen fifty-five the eye of summer hoping cracked alive then closed forever after because of teenage laughter that chilled away the whole pubescent hive. My friend and I had claimed the foremost row just underneath the cinematic glow and roar of Hollywood as though it did us good to swim the Fairway Theater in tow. He rose on cue to seek the candied lobby; two girls appeared as though my name were Bobby instead of dour John more apt to crack a frown than socialize in cadence with a hobby. Mysteriously the two requested seats beside my own like two elective treats. Refusal followed fast but faster was the blast of malediction that the air repeats. John Davis Pilkey |
The Knockout |
