Atrocity Exhibition

November 02, 2020
The boy next door, 
Danny,
His name is, 
Likes to put me in a 
Headlock 
When we play at his house.
He’s a wrestler!
He’s a wrestler.
Sometimes he’s so skinny.
When I’m in my backyard, 
Sometimes I hear him in his backyard, 
With his Dad.
And he’s crying–
Because he’s not allowed to eat anymore
And I feel bad
We’re having hotlinks tonight
But then I go to his house
In their basement 
He sweeps my legs out from under me
He pins my arms, my legs
I can’t breathe
He smells
I can’t breathe
He smells like a smelly boy
I can’t breathe.
I tap out. He lets go. He screams.
He laughs hysterically.
Dad tries to show me what to do
When Danny’s got me trapped like this 
Elbow him in the ribs, he says
Dad’s a fighter. 
He shows me how to elbow so it hurts
So that he’ll stop.
Dad’s a fighter. I’m not a fighter.
He lets me practice on him in the kitchen. 
I’d rather he hug me than pin me
Like this.
The next time at Danny’s 
I elbow him in the ribs
His cold hard ribs
Skin and ribs--that’s all he is
I’ve hurt him. He stops. I get up.
He tries to laugh but he cries. 
Oh Danny, won’t you come 
                      to dinner?