Nate Graziano: poem

FENDING FOR MYSELF

The older boys
with sparse mustaches
would chase me for blocks
and threaten to kick my ass
for the sheer pleasure of it.
They'd eventually catch me,
throw me down on the grass,
bury their knees
in the arch of my back
and pull the back of my underwear
over my head.
Ripping the waistband
in the process.
I'd play dead.
Face down on a neighbor's lawn.
Fresh patches of sod
would muffle my sobs.
As they'd walk away,
I'd listen to their laughs fade
like ghosts effacing in a light.

There was a message
on my answering machine
the other day
when I got home from work.
The credit card company found me.
A voice with a Southern accent
told me to call them back
and left an extension number.
I erased the message
and sprawled out on the couch.
I felt secure in the fact
that the credit card company
would never get a hand
on my boxer shorts.

Nate Graziano lives in Concord, NH where he edits a print zine called The Brown Bottle. His poetry and fiction have appeared in a number of small zines, most recently The Chiron Review, Nerve Cowboy, Angelflesh, Unwound and Staplegun. He has work forthcoming in The Black Bear Review and The Louisiana Review. He has had two chapbooks published, A Night At The O'Aces (PhonyLid Publications) and No White Horses (Green Bean Press). His third chapbook, Seasons From The Second Floor, will be published this year by Green Bean Press.