<\/p>\n
it was a small blanket
\nof little comfort
\nbut necessary
\nred and from an airline
\nand carried everywhere<\/p>\n
i always wanted to be a scientist
\nor superhero, like batman
\nI had boxes stacked in a corner
\nwith a bookcase drawn on one side
\nand computers on the other
\nflip the switch of imagination
\nand there I was<\/p>\n
I remember a skeleton key
\nheavy, long and brass
\nhung from my neck
\nit was magical
\nopening all the doors
\nI couldn’t see
\nthen one day I lost it
\nthe first trauma of
\nchildhood innocence<\/p>\n
one pack of garbage pail kids
\nfor a quarter (no tax)
\ndown at the local corner store
\nthe neighborhood kids were
\nmr. labbe’s biggest customers
\ncandy, ice cream, soda, and cards
\nit was a hangout for old timers
\ncool, quiet, and comforting
\nnow it’s an apartment<\/p>\n
milkshakes and fried scallops
\nthe best in town
\nsat at the top of Sand Hill
\nobscure and not well known
\nglo’s place wasn’t fancy
\njust an old french diner
\nfor old french men and old french women
\nwith their catholic school grand kids<\/p>\n
in those days the bad kids (like me)
\nwere made to stand on the wall
\nduring recess
\na cruel punishment
\nby petty and frustrated nuns
\nmade all the more so by children
\nin mocking play
\nbut my father put a stop to that
\nstill I never learned my lesson<\/p>\n
christmas eve
\ncigarette smoke haunted the room
\nis it any wonder I love it now
\nthe men laughed and the women hollered
\ndeaf or hard of hearing
\nloud with alcohol and french blood
\nhard lines from
\nhard living drawn
\non their faces
\nwhile all the children lingered
\nin the basement playing pool
\ntill the time for false repentance came
\nmidnight mass, even then it was a trip<\/p>\n
winter wasn\u2019t so bad in those days
\nwe stayed out all day until we were
\nsoaked and cold to the bone
\nbuilding secret sidewalk igloo\u2019s
\nand forming armies for
\nthe great snowball battle to come
\nthe worst thing to happen
\nwas a black eye from a cruel iceball
\nkids….<\/p>\n
growing up in the 80’s
\nwe didn’t have
\ngood computers or smart phones
\njust one lucky kid with a nintendo
\nwe had huffy and BMX bicycles
\nwith pegs on the front tires
\nfor daring passengers
\nwe had sleds’ tied to snowmobiles
\nracing circles madly in an open field
\nand a local grease monkey
\nwho built go carts and mini bikes
\nadventure knew no bounds<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
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