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Joey Next-Door and I would sit

on the porch steps

at my house with the lawn.

While I read a book with thick pages

and a bite-proof cover,

he'd dress up my dress-up doll.

Billy Down-the-Block would gather guys

for games with balls,

throwing them through hoops,

against the curb, against each other—

He'd let me chase strays

and underhand toss them back.

Steve Across-the-Street would do tricks

on his two-wheeler boy's bike

and I'd clap my hands.

Sometimes he'd ride me around

in Davy Diagonally-Over's little red wagon

with the yellow wheels.

Timmy Two-Houses-Away played

Punch and Judy circus

with my garage's

Daddy-built puppet theater.

He'd help me mix Kool-Aid

to sell from my hot-tar driveway.

Moms cooked and cleaned and pushed strollers

They'd flock around the post and rail,

chain link, and white picket fences;

talk about kids;

keep an eye out for passing cars;

and other sunny-day disasters.

Dads came home with briefcases

or calloused hands

by bus, train, or car—

our cue to come inside.


On a day when it rained,

Billy Down-the-Block,

Steve Across-the-Street,

Davy Diagonally-Over,

Timmy Two-Houses-Away, and

my little-girl self, rotated into

Joey Next-Door,

Nick Next-Door, and

Don Next-Door's basement.

Their Mom was upstairs vacuuming

with the TV turned way up

talking "I Love Lucy" reruns.

We were building the Best-Invention-Yet

with a super-deluxe engineering erector set.

I was going to run home, even if it was

still cats-and-dogs raining,

and go potty, then come right back, but—

They told me I was a big girl and

should go in the Next Door's basement bathroom.

Steve Across-the-Street blocked the steps to upstairs.

Don Next-Door said, "Take off all your clothes."

Billy Down-the-Steet said, "All the boys have to watch."

Davy Diagonally-Over said, "Look, girls pee wierd."

Joey Next-Door touched me.

Timmy Two-Houses-Away made me touch it.

Nick Next-Door made me kiss it.


When I couldn't cry anymore,

they finished the Best-Invention-yet.

I stepped up the steps upstairs,

past Mrs. Next-Door's ironing board

and "As the World Turns";

through the Next-Door's front door,

into the rain, and

before a normal

Mom, Dad, and kids dinner


secretly stole my last little-girl nap.

neighborhood

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