soft grumbles

I was fourteen
when the sun was completely up
revealing new worlds.

Some were shown before my eyes,
like periwinkle decor inside mansions.
Others I had to search for
like insects hiding inside
tiny breaks on mountain precipices.
I had to work hard for some
like pounding grain with mortar and pestle,
some I just picked up along the way.

I was fourteen
when I started to blush
at every smiling girl
who grew taller than I was.
Never did I know I’d try
to peek under their skirts
or steal a kiss away.

My face reddened
from pricking pimples
with the nail on my thumb.
Began to use deodorants
and took a bath
three times a day.

But it was also at fourteen
when I first experienced
being intoxicated with alcohol
and indulged with the pleasures
of smoke wisping from my mouth.

I’d go home drunk
walking in a circular path.
Soon, I would have done it all
from reefers to hash.

So, I have been fourteen, too, my child.
Believe me when I say
all these may be fun
but punishment comes
once you get
to forty-two.

rolly