Absolutely Nothing

Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines

          he wrote a poem

And he called it “Chops”

        because that was the name of his dog

And that’s what it was all about

And his teacher gave him an A

        and a gold star

And his mother hung it on the kitchen door

        and read it to his aunts

That was the year Father Tracy

        took all the kids to the zoo

And he let them sing on the bus

And his little sister was born

        with tiny toenails and no hair

And his mother and father kissed a lot

And the girl around the corner sent him a

Valentine signed with a row of X’s

       and he had to ask his father what the X’s meant

And his father always tucked him in bed at night

And was always there to do it

Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines

       he wrote a poem

And he called it “Autumn”

       because that was the name of the season

And that’s what it was all about

And his teacher gave him an A

       and asked him to write more clearly

And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door

       because of its new paint

And the kids told him

       that Father Tracy smoked cigars

And left butts on the pews

And sometimes they would burn holes

That was the year his sister got glasses

       with thick lenses and black frames

And the girl around the corner laughed

       when he asked her to go see Santa Claus

And the kids told him why

       his mother and father kissed a lot

And his father never tucked him in bed at night

And his father got mad

       when he cried for him to do it.

Once on a paper torn from his notebook

       he wrote a poem

And he called it “Innocence: A Question”

       because that was the question about his girl

And that’s what it was all about

And his professor gave him an A

       and a strange steady look

And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door

       because he never showed her

That was the year that Father Tracy died

And he forgot how the end

       of the Apostle’s Creed went

And he caught his sister

       making out on the back porch

And his mother and father never kissed

       or even talked

And the girl around the corner

       wore too much makeup

That made him cough when he kissed her

       but he kissed her anyway

       because that was the thing to do

And at three a.m. he tucked himself into bed

       his father snoring soundly

That’s why on the back of a brown paper bag

       he tried another poem

And he called it “Absolutely Nothing”

Because that’s what it was really all about

And he gave himself an A

       and a slash on each damned wrist

And he hung it on the bathroom door

       because this time he didn’t think

       he could reach the kitchen.