We had a tree fort once
where we’d escape to
and look at old Playboy magazines,
glossy women wearing see-through teddies
with nipples as big hockey pucks,
thatches that hid their prize,
my brother telling me once,
“I’m going to marry a gal like this when I’m older,”
while I laughed so hard I puked.
In our trailer below the tempest was starting,
sound of glass shattering,
the trailer shaking from a human earthquake,
screen door screeching and swinging off its hinges
as if trying to flee the madness
just as we had.
My brother ignored it,
just pulled out another magazine and told me to look,
“Look this way
Don’t be stupid.”
Len Kuntz is an writer from Washington State and the author of the story collection, The Dark Sunshine, from Connotation Press. Additionally, he’s an editor at the online lit zine Literary Orphans. You can find him at http://lenkuntz.blogspot.com.