who made me feel stupid beneath and beyond my years.
he stared
and swung on a junglegymnasium rope
hung from the ceiling,
which along with the football helmet
he wore quite casually,
was a logical sink
for the demoniac,
super-brained energy of this approximately
six-year old gremlin
who, some time within the next few seasons
of torture for his wild hillbilly parents and the community,
managed to climb into the family auto
and engage its kinetic potential,
so that it went flying down the mountainside.
The sort of untamable action
which necessitated helmet and gymnasium-home rope.
at one point
we were alone and i tried
talking to him and
he looked at me with
an impossible un-six-year-old disdain and amusement,
so that it coated me with self-contempt
and to this day
a persistent sense of my own mediocrity,
an exchange of which he surely has no memory at all,
if he is still alive,
the doomed, sick little mega-mind.
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