What Children Know

by Justin Wade Thompson

when i was a kid

we had this nice little spot

by the river

you could talk

and smoke cigarettes

no one would know

we were kids

it thrilled us

to retreat

from the world of parents

in unhappy matrimony

with

pictures of

wedding cakes and smiles stuffed

in an album somewhere

in some closet

by the fireplace

that we seldom

used

we were kids

we had secrets that meant

nothing

like snakes in the grass

we'd get chigger bites

on our asses and bathe in bleach

and we'd cover our tracks

as best we could

we didn't know love

nor did we care

we knew skipping rocks

and burning leaves

in coffee cans

we knew nothing but

everything

drank water from the garden hose

til our bellies would

almost burst

we were boys

and blades of grass

made pillows for our feet.